Becoming Brian Kinney
by MHampton
Summary: How did awkward unpopular gay Brian Kinney turn into Brian Fucking Kinney? These stories trace Brian's evolution through his relationship with his (very) straight college roommate and best friend, Dave Gold. A popular, good-looking athlete, Dave is an eternal optimist who won't put up with Brian's bullshit and always manages to pull him out of his sullen moods.
1. Prologue

Brian still remembered the first time he'd laid eyes on Dave. Brian's parents bickering in the doorway of the freshman dorm room at Lehigh College. It was a few days before the other freshmen arrived, but the school had thought it best for the kids in Brian's program, "Upwards Bound" to arrive a few days early, along with the freshmen athletes, so they could "get accustomed to living in a university setting." Or at least that's what the brochure said. The reality was they wanted to make sure the scholarship students knew how to behave and got settled in their work-study jobs while nobody was there but the athletes. Dave had burst into the room, thrown his "Lehigh Baseball" bat bag on the bed and announced "Hi. I'm Dave Gold!" in a tone of voice that seemed to imply that everyone already knew who and what Dave Gold was.

He was stunning. Just under six feet tall. Thick straight brown hair that glowed auburn where the sun hit it. Large almost almond shaped eyes with incredible lashes. A solid well defined frame and a swirl of chest hair emerging from the brown and white "Lehigh University Baseball" henley he was wearing. But it was the smile that made Dave glow. He smiled and his whole face lit up, the blinding white teeth against the tanned skin, eyes bright and confident.

The Kinneys all stammered a greeting and eyed each other uncomfortably. Brian hoped that Gold, David, 1600 Mandeville Canyon Road, Los Angeles, CA 90049, The Brentwood School '89, had still been out of earshot when his father had called his mother a "stupid uptight cunt" a few minutes earlier.

"So you're Brian Kinney!" he said, grabbing Brian's hand and pumping it like a politician. "From Pittsburgh!" Brian nodded. "You a big Pirates fan, Bri?"

"Yeah, I..." Brian started to stammer, but was saved by the entrance of Dave's mother, the tannest, thinnest woman Brian had ever seen. She was dressed in what Brian could now easily identify as Chanel, but at the time had only registered as "pink and white rich lady suit."

"Your father has the trunks in front of the elevator," she announced. "Go help him."

"Yes Captain," David said, giving his mother a comical salute. He caught Brian's eye and made a slight motion with his head to indicate that Brian should come with him.

"Brian Kinney!" he'd exclaimed as soon as they were out of sight, grabbing Brian's opposite shoulder and pulling him into his chest. "So good to finally meet you man! We are going to have the best time ever this year buddy! The best!"

Brian looked up at him and then Dave smiled, his eyes locked on Brian's, and Brian felt his cock start to harden.

Gold hadn't been lying when he promised Brian the "best time ever." It was as if he'd stepped into "The Wizard of Oz" when everything went from black and white into color. Brian had been an unhappy gay outsider in high school, concentrating on grades and avoiding his parents, his rare moments of peace coming from the time he spent in the Novotny house, where both Debbie and Michael thought he was someone special.

And now, all of a sudden, at Lehigh, he was one of the cool kids.

It was all Gold's doing. Gold was the closest thing the freshman class had to a Big Man on Campus. "I'm Dave Gold. Girls want to do me, guys want to be me," he had jokingly told Brian one drunken evening, a statement Brian took, at the time, to be evidence of Gold's extreme level of self-awareness.

But it was more than infatuation. Gold seemed to really like him as well. Dave's home life was every bit as messed up as Brian's, in a way: divorced parents each busy fulfilling their own lives and balancing multiple marriages, Dave left on his own with a series of nannies and housekeepers. Baseball was his salvation, the only place he'd ever felt at home. His parents, who couldn't be bothered to actually engage with him, showered him with private lessons and batting coaches- anything to avoid having to deal with him- and he'd just funneled his hurt into the game. "I walked out onto the field and I could forget," he'd told Brian. His teammates were all good guys, they hung out, but living at home, being in the midst of it, it was hard to actually open up to any of them. Brian was the first. Brian was the only one who understood.

So the boys bonded over their fucked up childhoods and over their shared sense of humor- they could crack each other up for hours- and Gold was sensitive enough to realize that Brian was often lost in this world of upper middle class princes and frat boys, gently and casually filling him in on the tribal knowledge he knew Brian had never been exposed to- who to tip and when, which one was your bread plate, the difference between Horace Mann and Dalton, Scarsdale and Bronxville, St. Barths and Boca. Clothes would occasionally show up too- Lacoste shirts and cashmere sweaters and Gold would grumble about how his mother was too much of a self-absorbed bitch to actually realize that hadn't grown since high school and he'd give the too-big clothes to Brian rather than "giving her the satisfaction of knowing they didn't fit."And it wasn't until they were three years out of college that Brian finally realized Mrs. Gold never bought Dave anything, least of all clothing.

Brian, in return, faithfully attended every Lehigh home game- Dave was starting shortstop on the varsity squad, having beat out a returning senior for the spot. He'd been recruited for baseball and he was one of best players on the team. "Yeah, it's Div 3," he'd tell Brian, "but for a five-eleven, 175 pound Jewish kid from a wussy Westside private school, it's still kind of a dream come true."

It was because of Dave that Brian decided to try being a heterosexual. Girls loved Gold. There was something about the way he just didn't care that seemed to pull them in and Brian was happy to pick up his overflow. Sometimes they'd wind up in threesomes or even just banging girls side-by-side and that made Brian feel even more special, not to mention turned on, watching his friend's thick cock piston in and out of his prey, accidentally splashing him once with cum, a mishap that fueled the next three months of Brian's masturbatory fantasies.

And something even more amazing: Brian Kinney was actually one of the cool kids. It was something he'd never realized before: in Popular World, the friend of my friend is an okay dude. And since he was Gold's roommate and best friend, they all loved him. Dumb lunkhead frat boys would high-five him and make sure to include him on their beer runs. He could still remember the exact night he realized how far he'd come: Gold was doing some pledge activity with ZBT, the predominantly Jewish fraternity he'd joined because "they've got the best study guides and the best weed" and so Brian had gone to a another frat party by himself. He was standing in the corner, trying not to stare at the well-defined pecs of a nearby lacrosse player when one of the brothers, a junior named Bill Phelps, called out his name and surreptitiously beckoned him over to the staircase. Brian was convinced it was all over, that they'd seen him staring and were going to out him as a fag and push him down the stairs. Only it was nothing like that. Phelps had some coke, and he and his girlfriend and a few of their friends actually seemed happy that a cool guy like Brian Kinney was available to share it with them. The room had a one way mirror that overlooked the dance floor and Brian was only too happy to join their "pick the 5 ugliest girls, 5 ugliest guys" contest. He was one of them now. He could do that sort of thing.

One of the things that made his relationship with Gold so special was the physical closeness. It started as arms around each other while they watched TV from Gold's bed and then one night Gold had rolled them over on their sides and thrown his arms over Brian, pulling him in and tucking his chin on Brian's head so they could both see the TV. Brian's whole body was tingling, only he wasn't sure what was actually happening, and then his dick was hard and he brushed his hand over Gold's crotch, only he wasn't hard and Dave wordlessly took his hand and just held it and Brian felt hot and nauseous and waited for Gold to call him a faggot only he just hugged him in a little harder and whispered "I love you, Kinney. You're my only real friend," and Brian just lay there, his eyes brimming with tears, thinking about how he had almost betrayed the one person who truly loved him.

And that was all that ever happened. It was always Gold who'd initiate it- Brian was too scared- but he'd be watching TV and tell Brian to come over and watch too, then pull Brian in and cuddle with him when he'd acquiesce. And Brian would get hard every time and every time he'd wonder if this was the time it went farther, only it never did. Gold kissed him a lot too, even in public sometimes. But it was all a big straight boy joke, a sign of how close they were, how secure in their masculinity.


	2. My Maine Man, Part 1

"What are you doing this summer Kinney? Are you going to go back to Arm Pitts-burgh?"

Gold's question caught Brian by surprise. He had actually been dreading the idea of heading home for the summer, back to his parents, and to Michael who'd already dropped out of community college after just one semester, come out to his mother and would be wondering why Brian wasn't gay anymore.

"Maybe. Why? What were you thinking?"

"Well I was talking to Jerry Rabin who runs Chen-An-Go— you know, the camp I go to. And he was asking if I knew anybody because they needed some more counselors."

"So you want me to go be a babysitter with you Gold?"

"No. Dude! It'll be awesome. You'll love Chen-An-Go. We'd have the Braves, anyway— they're like 13 year olds— and you and me would be bunk counselors together. It's beautiful up there Brian— Maine is just totally awesome and there's lots of hot girls too— from Chen-An-Go and from all the other camps—and I'll probably be Color War general again and you'll make great tips and.…"

It was hard for Brian to resist Gold when he got that determined look in his eyes, and anyway most things Gold claimed would be "awesome" usually were, so five months and two interviews later, Brian found himself putting his sleeping bag and pillow onto the top bunk of the bed he'd be sharing with Gold for the rest of the summer, surrounded by a bunch of 13 year old mini-Daves who all wanted to meet "Gold's roommate Kinney" which seemed like it was going to be his nickname for the summer.

Gold was, of course, the star of the camp. He'd spent every summer at Chen-An-Go from the time he was 6 and as he told Brian one of the first nights "this place is like my real home, Bri. I mean these people care about me, the Rabins, they look out for me, remember to call me on my birthday. I'm so psyched that you get to be here," he said, pulling Brian in for a hug. "You get to be part of the family too."

It was, truth be told, the best summer of Brian's life. He'd never been very fond of—or good at— sports, something that had caused him several sleepless nights in the weeks before they got there, but he had a natural grace that served him well, especially at soccer and basketball, and Dave was a good coach, intuitively understanding that Brian was often fuzzy about the rules or what to do next, directing him without ever seeming to actually do so.

Their campers were pretty easy too— they fought sometimes, as 13 year old boys are wont to do, but they held Gold in such awe that anything he said was held to be gospel and that same privilege was somehow transferred to Brian as well.

And Brian surprised himself with how much he liked being in charge, using his well-honed sarcasm to keep the boys in line, and the way they all seemed to hang on his every word, the way he'd catch them trying out some of his lines on each other.

He was exotic to them too— and not just because he was Catholic and came from Pittsburgh. Brian was continually shocked at how rich they all were. Not in-your-face rich, but he quickly became aware of the casually dropped lines about trips to Europe, private jets, beach houses and chauffeurs. And the bar and bat mitzvahs. Dave was really the first Jew Brian had ever known, other than a kid from Squirrel Hill who was in chess club with him back in fourth grade. And while Dave wasn't the only one of his friends at Lehigh who was Jewish, Brian hadn't realized what a big deal the thirteenth birthday ceremonies were, listening in awe as his boys described their own parties and others they'd been to, three hundred people at the Plaza Hotel with actual Knicks and Yankees players in attendance.

"Gold— did you have one of those big time bar mitzvahs when you were 13?" he'd asked him one night, after listening to one of the boys tell a story about his cousin being carried into her party on a sedan chair.

Dave looked embarrassed, like he didn't want to talk about it. "Yeah," he finally mumbled. "My parents—they each wanted to show how they were the bigger deal, so they really went all out."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. They had all this fancy food and fireworks, and then my mom got crazy with the place and all."

"Why? Where did you have it?"

"Dodger Stadium" Dave mumbled and shrugged his shoulders. "It was actually pretty cool— I got to go out to the pitcher's mound and run around the bases and all and even see the dugout and the clubhouse. And they announced my name over the speakers like I was a real Dodgers player."

And it wasn't until a few weeks later, talking with one of the other counselors who'd been there, that Brian came to realize that the Golds had actually rented out the entire Dodger stadium for Dave's bar mitzvah. Because in Brian's initial imagining, they'd merely just roped off a section for Dave during one of the home games.

******************************************

Hawk's Bay, Maine was pretty far from Los Angeles however, and Looneys, the dive bar they went to on their nights off was far more reminiscent of the sort of places his father hung out in back in Pittsburgh. There were always other kids there though, counselors from other camps in the area and with Dave as his wingman, Brian found himself with no shortage of female companionship.

He liked girls, liked flirting with them anyway, especially if Gold was there too, and usually they'd find two friends and pair off with them. Sometimes Brian thought about Dave and what he was doing, but sometimes he just enjoyed the moment. The summer nights, the freedom, the newness, it was all sort of intoxicating and he decided that it was possible that he was actually bisexual.

One night, after he'd gotten a blow job from a girl in the bushes behind Looneys, she'd asked him if she'd see him again and he'd started to say "you can see me in your dreams," only Dave cut him off mid-sentence and said "Next week. We're off again next Wednesday— you can see him next week."

And as they were pulling out of the parking lot, Dave turned to him and said "First off, don't go stealing my lines, Kinney. They're my lines, not yours. And second off— you can't even pull off a line like that. You're too nice. Girls look at at you and think 'boyfriend' — they don't think 'one night stand,"

Brian looked kind of dejected and Gold reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "That's a good thing, Kinney. It means you're a good person. People can sense that about you, that you've got a good heart. And that'll get you laid just as much as being a bad boy, dude. Trust me" And Brian laughed and touched Dave's hand on his shoulder as he turned up the radio, the scent of piney woods and moist summer air filling the car as they raced down the highway and Brian was so happy he thought his heart might burst.

It was during color war, the penultimate week of the summer, that Brian got another inkling of how rich Dave really was. Gold, as everyone had expected, was one of "generals" — the leaders of the color war teams and he threw himself into it with his usual abandon. Everyone did. And so despite his natural tendency to pull back and to mock, Brian found himself getting into it too, cheering and above all caring about who actually won.

Dave was leading the Green squad in a cheer when Wendy Marcus, the college senior who ran the arts and crafts tent, shook her head at Brian and muttered "he is such a classic Westside boy."

Brian wasn't sure what she meant by that. He knew that Dave lived on the western side of Los Angeles— he'd mentioned it a couple of times— but he had no idea what a "Westside boy" was supposed to be like. He knew that Wendy was from "the Valley"— there was a song about Valley Girls— but she didn't really talk like that and anyway he thought Valley Girls were supposed to be sort of rich and snotty.

"You know, like all those boys from Beverly Hills and Brentwood and Bel Air…" No. He didn't know. He had no idea that Brentwood, a place he'd never heard of before he met Dave, was supposed to be included in the same sentence as Beverly Hills and Bel Air. "He got the SL for his sixteenth birthday…"

"SL?"

"Mercedes SL."

"Come on Kinney! Wendy! I can't hear you!" Dave shouted into the megaphone, and then Brian got swept up in a group of his campers and found himself headed down to the lake.

"Gold! You drove a Mercedes when you were in high school?" Brian still couldn't believe it and so it was the first thing out of his mouth when they got back to the bunk.

"Charlotte. Charlotte is a 560 SL. I told you about her."

"You said she was a red convertible."

"Yeah, well, she's a red Mercedes convertible, okay. Now come help me with the bonfire."

Later that night, after the bonfire, Dave tapped Brian on the shoulder. "Buddy chat?"

Brian nodded. "Buddy chat" was something Dave had come up with midway through freshman year. It was what they were supposed to do when they had something that was bothering them, sit on Dave's bed, arm in arm, and talk until they'd worked things out.

Dave steered Brian down to a secluded log facing the lake and then wrapped his arm around Brian's shoulder. He reeked from wood smoke and sweat, but Brian was always happy when Dave touched him, no matter how badly he smelled.

"So hey," he said, taking a photo out of his back pocket and holding it up to the moonlight. It was a picture of Dave sitting in the driver's seat of a red Mercedes convertible. "That's Charlotte. And I know you're sore that I never told you she was a Mercedes. And you're right— I did that on purpose. You see…" he sighed. "Well, I know that where you grew up, people aren't as rich as in Brentwood and everyone's kind of a tough guy and I thought you'd think I was a spoiled little brat if you knew and that you wouldn't like me as much." He hung his head down and looked at his feet.

"That's crazy talk David," Brian said and sort of half laughed, half snorted. "I thought—" Brian started and then stopped.

"You thought what?"

"Nothing."

"No, tell me—"

"I thought you thought I was some kind of dumb hillbilly who wouldn't even know what a Mercedes was."

"Now that, Kinney, is crazy talk."

Brian stared out at the lake, at the crazy patchwork of stars that were up in the sky over it. "I love you David," he half-whispered.

"I know you do Brian. And I love you back, every bit as much. You're my brother-from-another-mother," he said, and stood up to give Brian a kiss on the top of his head. "But if we don't get back up to the bunk now, those kids are going to tear the place apart."

Dave insisted that Brian head out to LA with him for the two weeks before school started. Brian would normally have been hesitant to accept the gift— Dave would be paying his airfare— but back in Pittsburgh, Michael had become a regular at Babylon, Debbie had joined P-Flag, and Brian wasn't prepared to deal with any of it. Michael wrote him almost daily, but Brian had become adept at destroying the letters, reading them and then shredding them in the woods behind the bunk.

Dave had insisted on another "buddy chat" before they left to explain to Brian that "I have a lot of, you know, stuff at my house" and it wasn't a big deal and that he'd let Brian drive Charlotte if he wanted, "and you're the only person who's had that honor, except maybe Lauren Geller, but that was only cause I was too drunk, not because I liked her. Though she did give good head…"

Dave's mother's house was in one of the canyons north of Sunset, at night you could see the lights of the city from the pool deck in the back and Brian could swear he'd stumbled onto a movie set. The house itself was the largest house he'd ever seen— he imagined you could fit a half dozen of the Kinneys house inside. Dave more or less had his own floor— there was a bedroom (with a king sized bed they wound up sharing), a den, a full bathroom and a wet bar— and his own batting cage in the back yard. "My dad got it for me when I started high school," he explained. "Mostly because he thought it would piss off my mother since it takes up a big chunk of the property. But still, man, I was fucking thrilled." And they spent an hour every morning taking batting practice, Dave helping Brian with his swing, Brian loving the attention and the fact that it involved Dave wrapping his body around him, holding him close enough so he could inhale Dave's scent.

One day Dave drove Brian down to the more commercial part of Brentwood, around Barrington, stopping in front of a small apartment building.

"You see that? That's where my grandfather's office used to be. I would go there every day after school and I'd do my homework in his office and then I'd help him out, give out lollipops and band-aids and try and make the little kids less scared if they were going to have to get a shot."

Dave's grandfather was a pediatrician and the only constant in Dave's life after his parents split up. He died suddenly of a heart attack when Dave was eight, and though he lived with his mother, he'd pretty much been on his own ever since. It was one of the things he and Brian talked about when they had their serious talks, though recently those had turned into "contests" where they'd try and one-up each other with the most messed up thing their parents had said or done to them. It was easier that way, to laugh instead of crying.

"Did you get to wear a little doctor's coat?"

"No. But I had a stethescope. A real one too. I was good, you know. I could always get the kids to stop crying."

"Yeah. I can see that."

"Yeah... well, we should get going. Hunter said to be at the party by 2."

"Why don't we wait a few more minutes Dave."

"Thanks dude." He patted Brian's hand and then squeezed it. "You're the best, Kinney, you know that? The best."

**********************************

Dave's friends were a lot like their friends at school and the other counselors at camp, only tanner and occasionally blonder. Brian was amazed to discover he didn't stick out so much anymore, but between Lehigh and Chen-An-Go, they just assumed he was one of them, sometimes someone had a cousin from Pittsburgh who invariably lived in Squirrel Hill or Mt. Lebanon and Brian learned that it was easiest to pretend that he might actually know them and to deflect questions as to his own origins by saying "I grew up in town"— a line Dave had actually jumped in with once or twice before Brian learned that it was the easiest answer.

"None of them have ever been to Pittsburgh or have any idea where it even is, dude. They're just being polite, so if you say "in town" it's vague enough that they can just move on the next subject."

"How do you know all this stuff Gold?"

"I don't know dude. How do you know the stuff you know? I'm sure I'd be just as lost in your part of Pittsburgh."

"You'd be fine wherever you go Davey. That's just who you are."

"What about Disneyland? You want to go Disneyland today? You can't come to California and not go to Disneyland."

And so Dave took him to Disney, and Knotts Berry Farm and the San Diego Zoo and even up to Santa Barbara.

Where as they sat on the beach one night, getting high at a bonfire some hippie girls from UCSB had going, Brian was giddy enough to let slip that this was "the first real vacation" he'd ever been on. "This… Chan-An-Go… Charlotte… everything. I feel like you do everything and I'm just always taking."

"Come on Brian. You haven't figured me out by now? What makes me happy?"

"Making other people happy?"

"Exactly. But what's funny is you still haven't figured out you yet."

"Oh?"

"Because you know what makes Brian Kinney happy? Making other people happy. That's why we get along so well. So if you just think that your being happy makes me happy, you'll see why all you need to do to even things out is to just let me see you enjoying yourself. It's like one big giant circle of happiness."

"You're so stoned Gold."

"No—"

"Yes. But I must be too, because I think I actually understand you."

"Well good, then," he said, pulling Brian in closer to him. "Because that's all you've got to do, dude. Just sit back and enjoy the ride."

And then he smiled his great big Dave Gold smile at Brian and the breeze wafted up from the ocean and the fire made shadows on the sand and once again Brian felt like his heart was about to burst.


	3. Superstar

"Yeah… sure… no, it's not a problem. Fine… yes… I need to go study anyway." Dave slammed the phone down on the receiver. "Bitch!" He kicked an errant baseball against the wall where it landed with a thud.

Brian looked up at him, eyes wide

"My mom. The usual bullshit. 'Robert invited me to Hawaii for Thanksgiving'" he said, mimicking her voice, "'and so I thought you wouldn't mind just staying at school— it's such a big trip for just four days anyway.'" Dave was chewing on his lower lip and stretching out the phone cord angrily.

"Can you go to your dad's?"

"No. He's not going to be there— he told me that last week. In a letter he dictated to his fucking secretary…" He exhaled loudly and stood up. "Well, looks like the Kinneys have an extra guest for Thanksgiving."

"Because that would just be so much fun Dave. We could place bets on when my father would pass out drunk or just count the number of well intentioned anti-Semitic comments my mother would make to you."

"Yeah," Dave nodded.

"We might as well just stay here, bro."

"That would be majorly depressing. Me, you and 25 foreign exchange students."

"I'm sure one of the many members of the Dave Gold Fan Club would take you in."

"Right…" The boys were in their sophomore year now and though Dave remained the closest thing their class had to a Big Man On Campus, Brian was still his only close friend, the only one he ever opened up to.

"Cabo!"

Brian looked up quizzically.

"My mom said I could go away if I wanted to. And I wasn't going to go by myself, but if you come, dude…"

"Okay Dave. I'll just put it on my dad's gold card… 'dude.'"

"No dickhead, you'll put it on my dad's gold card. It's the least they can do… And you don't get to say no."

"Where is Cabo? In Mexico?"

"Yeah, Baja. We go there all the time— I know my way around and all. Just beach, booze and babes. It'll be fucking awesome. We won't even have to eat turkey."

"Turkey tacos."

Dave laughed. "You're a nut, Kinney… Let me call my travel agent and get everything set up."

Dave had a travel agent. Of course he did. Brian, on the other hand, had never actually stayed at a hotel, unless you counted the motel they'd stopped at one night on the way back from Lake Erie when his father got too drunk to drive anymore.

"You'll have to get a passport too— we'll go into town one day to the post office… and thank you bro— you are a lifesaver."

And Brian was the one who should be saying thank you, which is what made Gold so fucking magical.

****************************************************************************

Dave had somehow managed to get them a suite. It had a living room and bedroom with a king size bed which Dave insisted they share— "I'm not gonna make you sleep on the pullout sofa Kinney." And the beach was gorgeous and warm and Dave said he would teach Brian how to surf if he wanted and seeing Dave shirtless and wet and his shorts clinging as he came out of the water just made everything more amazing. Not to mention confusing.

"So what are we doing tonight, Gold? This is your town. Show me the ropes."

"I think we should just stay in tonight, bro. Order room service. Play cards and maybe get ourselves some beers."

"Because it's Thanksgiving?"

"Exactly. It's just going to be a bunch of families and stuff," Dave shook his head and stretched his arms over his head. "Maybe we'll go out later, once we catch a buzz."

****************************************************************************

"You know, it's 11 o'clock already and they didn't even fucking call!" Dave slammed down his cards. "And yeah, I have nothing. Just a pair of twos… your parents or my parents, Kinney. That's so fucked up. I mean it's Thanks fucking giving. Are we so bad? Are we such terrible fucking disappointments to them? We're both honor students. I'm the star of the baseball team. You write for the newspaper. You'd think they'd be proud of us. Not act like we're losers!" A tear slid down Dave's left cheek.

"You're a superstar, Dave Gold. You know that."

"And you're a superstar too Brian Kinney," Dave answered in return, clinking his beer bottle against Brian's "So fuck them. They've got two superstars and they don't even know it." He took another swig of his beer and gazed out at the nighttime ocean. "Let's make a deal, you and me: no matter where we are, no matter who we're with, no matter what we're doing, you and I will call each other every Thanksgiving. Because we're fucking superstars."

"Superstars," Brian returned, clinking his bottle again.

"You promise?"

"I do, bro. I promise."

Dave held out his finger so they could pinky-swear and they returned to the card game. Later, when they went to sleep, Dave reached across the bed and said "come here, superstar," grabbed onto Brian's head, kissed the top of it and said "I love you Kinney."

"Love you too superstar," and Brian closed his eyes and smiled because this was the best Thanksgiving he'd ever had.

****************************************************************************

The rest of the weekend raced by. Dave rented surfboards for them and Brian actually managed to stand up on his for about 30 seconds and then Dave rode them in a few times together on one board, Brian's arms wrapped tightly around his chest.

They found a vendor selling leather bracelets with white cowrie shells on them and so they each got one. "They'll be our 'buddy bracelets'" Dave told Brian. "Whenever we look at them, we'll think of this weekend and know that we're superstars and that we're always there for each other."

They even found two women their last night, waitresses from San Diego who said they were 29, but Dave said he thought they were even older, maybe like 35. They told the women they were record producers from L.A. (Dave's idea) Brian was Raphael, a "musical genius" with a tendency to refer to himself in the third person while Dave was Boaz and spoke in a really bad Israeli accent the whole evening. When they got up to their hotel room, Dave handed a Brian a condom and hissed "use it!" under his breath, only Brian was having trouble getting it up for Natalie who was a lot more skilled than his usual partners, and then he thought about that night at Babylon after prom and the guy who gave him a blow job and Natalie's ministrations had their desired effect.

Brian had assumed they'd spend the night but Gold/Boaz came in with the blonde who was his conquest for the evening and announced "Okay, you go now. Sex time is over," in his fake Israeli accent and the women got dressed and left and then Dave herded Brian into the shower because "you don't know what those chicks are carrying."

And they stayed up until sunrise, rehashing the night's adventures, laughing themselves sick over lines like "Raphael only likes C-Major in the chorus. It is like the whisper of a tiny princess," and when Dave/Boaz announced "Okay, so now we go up to the room to fuck, okay?" and imagining how girls they knew at school would react if they'd ever try to use that line on them.

As they lay on the beach the next morning, Dave sound asleep beside him, Brian thought about how he'd never felt so close to anyone before, not even Mikey. And how he'd never felt so at peace either. The wind rustled the palm trees above them and he tried to think about he might even begin to explain the weekend to either Novotny, but he couldn't, so he rolled over closer to Dave so that their shoulders were touching and let the sound of the waves lull him to sleep.

****************************************************************************

Brian had just finished carving the turkey when the phone rang.

"Superstar! Happy Thanksgiving!" He knew it was Gold before he even answered the phone, but hearing his voice still made Brian smile.

"And a Happy Thanksgiving back to you, Doctor Superstar. So how is my favorite heterosexual doing?"

"Doing great dude. And how is my favorite homosexual?"

"Being the best homosexual I can possibly be."

"So that means you're at Babylon getting ready to fuck some guy in that back room?"

"You misjudge me, my dear David. I am actually at the home of our mutual friend Ms. Lindsay Peterson and her partner in all things lesbionic, Ms. Melanie Marcus, having a lovely dinner with some fellow members of the homosexual community." Brian looked up to see Ted rolling his eyes, but Justin was beaming at thim, the full Sunshine smile practically lighting up the room.

"I can't believe you're mimicking the oppressive hierarchies of the heterosexual orthodoxy."

"We like to keep you people on your toes."

"Kind of like ballerinas?"

"Touché, Doctor Superstar."

"I miss you dude."

"Same. I'll be in L.A. next month though for a shoot. The 16th and 17th, so save the dates."

"Done. And how is Justin? He better be in that dining room with you."

"He is. And what are your plans for the evening?"

"We have a dinner for the kids at the AIDS hospice and their families. I—we got a caterer in to make it kind of nice for them."

"Your noblesse oblige is truly remarkable, Doctor Gold. Gus— if you turn out one-tenth as noble as your uncle David, I will be a very proud father."

"Go in the other room so I can talk to you," Dave commanded. "I know you have an audience but I didn't call to talk to the King of the Queers."

Brian got up and walked into Gus's room. "What's up superstar, everything okay?"

"Yeah. I just wanted to talk to _you_."

"So you bringing anyone to this dinner?"

"No. It's not the kind of thing you bring someone to. Unless—"

"Unless you're pretty serious about them."

"Yeah. So Justin?"

"He's 19, Davey."

"But you love him. He's the one."

"I just… he doesn't love me, Gold. He loves Brian Kinney, King of the Queers."

"Just don't drive him away."

"I pay his god-damned tuition. I let him live in my loft. I spend Thanksgiving with him. I even let him fuck me."

"But the King of the Queers is too cool to say "I love you.""

"He thinks he wants to hear it, but…" Brian sat down on the floor next to Gus' bed and curled himself into his knees.

"Yeah, I know… we're both fucked up like that. Why is it so easy for me to say it to you all the time, but not to anyone else?"

"We needed to say it to each other, Dave. No one else ever did."

"It feels good though. I love you Superstar. I love you, I love you, I love you. It feels fucking good."

"Yeah… it does."

Dave could hear Brian's voice crack.

"You should bring him out to LA with you next time. Between the two of us, we might be able to work something..."

"Yeah. I should… Hey, Superstar, not to be rude, but I better get back to this dinner before it gets cold. I'll see you in three weeks though. And I love you Superstar. I always will."

"I love you too, Kinney. Happy Thanksgiving... Superstar."

Brian hit "end call", took a deep breath, and then wiped a tear from each eye and forced himself to smile, checking his hair and his expression in the tiny mirror on Gus' dresser.

"Well that's how it is, Doctor Gold," he said to the silent phone, making his way back into the dining room. "No apologies. No regrets. But you have yourself a Happy Thanksgiving."

He winked at Justin and slid the phone back into his pocket.


	4. My Maine Man, Part 2

Brian's second summer at Chen-An-Go was even better than his first. He was a known quantity now, not just "Dave Gold's roommate" and he knew what to expect, knew the busboy games in the dining hall, knew the cheers, the "surprise" contests, the fastest way from the bunk to the lake late at night.

He'd even started to enjoy playing sports and was given a spot on the staff soccer team, which competed against other camps in the area. It was there that he met Jeroen, the tall blonde floppy haired Dutch student who helped run the camp's soccer program. Jeroen seemed to spend a lot of time instructing Brian and his sense of why that was proved correct one evening when Jeroen asked him if would help bring the equipment back to the shed. "I like the way you move out there," Jeroen told him, locking his eyes on Brian's. "You're very graceful."

"Not half as graceful as you are," Brian said slowly and Jeroen came closer to him, pulling Brian in for a kiss that quickly turned into a blow job. It was the first uncut cock Brian had ever seen and he wasn't quite sure what to do with it, so he mostly jerked it, watching the foreskin slide back and forth over the head. And when they were done, Jeroen got all awkward and told him that he'd been wanting some relief since "all these American girls are bitches" and he looked away while Brian jerked off, like he couldn't wait for the whole thing to be over.

"This is just between us, right?" Jeroen insisted as they left the equipment shed.

"It better be" Brian snapped. "No one is every going to find out about this."

"About what, Brian?" Jeroen smiled coldly.

"Exactly."

And he took the long way back to the bunk, trying to put the entire incident out of his mind. He was straight now. He liked girls. Most of the time, anyway. The gay thing had just been a phase. He and Dave were a team, they'd get married and buy houses near each other and their wives would be best friends too.

Dave had noticed something though. "You okay, Kinney? You seem out of it tonight."

"Yeah, just wiped from soccer practice."

"Drink more water then. Here, let me go get you some." And the rest of the night, all through the Night In Las Vegas festivities at the clubhouse, 12 and 13 year old girls kept bringing Brian bottles of water, giggling when he'd say "thank you", because, as he'd learned from Dave, "the Junior Girls all think you're dreamy" and so Dave found every opportunity to send them Brian's way, and more than once he'd look up to see Dave handing a bottle of Evian to an awkward 8th grader and pointing her in Brian's direction.

Dave was magic.

***************************************************************

Two weeks later, they were at Looneys, which was more crowded than usual for a Tuesday night. Dave had just sent Brian to the outdoor bar on the back deck with twenty dollars from the "counselor beer fund."

There were a bunch of girls at the bar from Pine Crest, the WASPy camp that was Chen-An-Go's main sports rival. Pine Crest always won football, lacrosse and crew, while Chen-An-Go prevailed at tennis, soccer and basketball, and, ever since a 12 year old named Dave Gold hit a grand slam home run in the 16 year old senior boy's championship game, baseball.

Brian edged himself closer to the bar to try and get the bartender's attention. "Hey!" someone nearby called out. "Hey! You go to Lehigh, don't you?"

Brian looked up. It was the blonde girl from his Shakespeare class he'd been too much of a wuss to ever talk to.

"I'm Lindsay. Lindsay Peterson. You were in my Shakespeare class, weren't you?"

"'Twas I," Brian said, flinching inwardly at how dorky he'd just sounded, but Lindsay seemed to think it was funny. "Brian." he said, offering his hand.

"Brian Kinney, right? I remember Professor Simpson would always call you "Mr. Kinney" and you always had such insightful things to say."

"Every time he called me Mr. Kinney, I'd turn around and look for my father." Lindsay laughed heartily at this and put her hand on Brian's arm, something Gold had recently been instructing their now 14 year old charges was a sign that a girl was into you.

"So what are you doing here? Do you work at one of the camps?"

"Chen-An-Go. It's my second summer."

"That's Dave Gold's camp. Do you know him from Lehigh?"

"He's my roommate."

"And you like him?" Lindsay said, a look of slight disgust on her face.

"I love him. He's a great guy… once you get to know him."

"Well he wasn't very nice to one of my friends freshman year… I told her she should know what to expect with a guy like that, but she didn't listen."

"Dave is Dave. He never means to hurt anybody though."

"Well he's certainly very popular."

"Yeah. So what about you?"

"Am I popular?"

"Yes… no. I mean what are you doing here— for the summer?"

"I work at Pine Crest. I run the field hockey program."

"Were you a camper there too?"

"Since I was 9. What about you?"

"No. I never went to camp. I didn't even know places like this existed."

"Really? That's so interesting!" She smiled and widened her eyes to show surprise and Brian realized she was every bit as nervous as he was.

"So are you from New York?" he asked

"No. Pittsburgh."

"No way! Me too!"

"Ohmigod! Like no one is from Pittsburgh! I mean I might as well be from Pakistan with the looks I get from people when I say Pittsburgh."

"I know," Brian laughed. "They give you that look, like you just farted and they can't wait to get away from you."

"Exactly." She laughed really loudly and grabbed his forearm again. "So are you from Squirrel Hill?"

"No… I'm not Jewish— Dave is. I grew up in town… in East Liberty."

"I don't think I know where that is. I'm from Mt. Lebanon. It's very boring and suburban."

And very rich, Brian thought to himself, but he just nodded sympathetically.

"—Where's my beer, Kinney?" Dave flung his arm over Brian's shoulder and turned to face Lindsay. "So who is this hottie, Brian?"

"This is Lindsay Peterson. She goes to Lehigh too."

Dave took Lindsay's hand in his as if he were going to kiss it. "Of course!" he said, "Lindsay! I remember you!… Lindsay!" and he turned on the great big Dave Gold smile and Brian knew that Dave had no idea who she was. "I'd definitely do you. Good choice, Kinney." And then he kissed her hand and spun away to make his way towards the bar.

"He's quite a character," Lindsay said, once Dave disappeared into the crowd.

"Yeah. He's a great guy though. He hooked me up with this job."

"So you're enjoying your summer?"

"I love it Lindsay. It's so great to see the kids, how they grow up and change over the summer. And just being away from everything. I mean, I'd be working some crap fast food job in Pittsburgh or at Q-Mart!" He shuddered, thinking about how Mikey couldn't understand why he'd choose Chen-An-Go over Q-Mart.

"I know what you mean. I'd be working at my father's office, filing papers and being introduced to eligible young lawyers. And you're right- it's great to see the girls get better at field hockey over the summer and then decide to go out for their school team."

"We sound like those CDs these send the families." Lindsay laughed and Brian remembered Gold's other instruction to the boys and put his hand on Lindsay's shoulder.

*************************************************************************

"Kinney's in love! Kinney's in love! Brian and Lindsay sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S—"

"Stop it Gold!" Brian was about to punch him in the shoulder, but given that Gold was driving, thought the better of it.

"Dude, I think it's great. She's beautiful— she kind of looks like Gwyneth Paltrow."

"You think?"

"Definitely."

"Don't Dave Gold me. You're full of it."

"She's totally out of your league, superstar and I can't believe you are hitting that."

"I haven't hit anything yet…" And without realizing it, Brian found that he was smiling.

"But you really like her. I can tell. Remember what I told you, B— girls think of you as the boyfriend type. You're the guy from Mystery Date who comes to pick them up with a dozen roses and remembers to hold the car door open."

"And so what are you?"

"Some guy they fuck because he's a fun time and they know it won't mean anything."

"I'm sure there's some girl out there who wants you to bring her a dozen roses and hold the car door open."

"Maybe dude," Dave shrugged. "I haven't met her yet. But about this Lindsay— she works at Pine Crest?"

"Yeah. She runs the field hockey program."

"Cool. Field hockey chicks have great legs. But you like her. I can tell. Like you can talk to her about stuff."

"Yeah, she's from Pittsburgh too."

"She's from your homeland! So you guys can get all 'yinzy' with each other."

"Watch the road, Superstar."

"I better get to be best man— not the retarded kid."

"Stop it, Gold. Spier is an asshole. And watch the road."

"Did you get her phone number?"

"They don't have phones. Just a main number."

"Did you get that?"

"Yeah."

"So what's the problem? Just call and ask for her."

"They'll announce it over the loudspeaker."

"So what? You think she's the first girl there to have a guy call her? You think you're even the first guy who's called for Lindsay? Just man up and do it. You like her, right?"

"Yeah… she's pretty cool."

"So it's done. On Thursday, after swim, you're gonna call her."

"Okay."

"Come on Superstar— that's not a Chen-An-Go okay! I wanna hear some spirit!"

"Okay!" Brian said, and stood up in front seat of the convertible and started pumping his arms, his hair flapping wildly in the wind. "Lindsay! Lindsay! Lindsay!"

He sat back down and Dave started laughing and then Brian did too, only the knot in his stomach didn't fully go away, at least not the way he'd hoped it would.


	5. The Retarded Kid

Mikey had started bugging Brian to come visit him at college about 48 hours after he'd first left Pittsburgh, but it took until April of his freshman year, before Brian finally relented.

He'd called Michael from a phone booth in town and made him swear not to say anything about being gay, especially not anything about Brian, especially in front of Gold. a stipulation Michael had surprisingly readily agreed to.

Gold was going to be away that weekend anyway— Lehigh was playing at Colgate , which was somewhere in upstate New York— and so there was no chance of Michael throwing one of his jealous fits around Gold.

It wasn't that he didn't like Michael anymore— Brian would always have a soft spot in his heart for Michael and his mother, for accepting him and loving him and being his surrogate family for all four years of high school. It was just that he'd changed so much since he'd gotten to Lehigh and Michael hadn't and there was no way he was going to fit in. Which is why Brian had carefully planned a series of events that would keep them far away from anyone Brian actually knew.

And thus he found himself pacing around the Greyhound bus station in Bethlehem at 8:30 at night. The bus, which had left Pittsburgh at noon, was delayed, no doubt because of the heavy rain. Brian had been pacing around the bus station for an hour, trying not to make eye contact with any of the lowlifes there, although several had already seen fit to ask him for money.

Finally, at 8:45, the bus pulled in and Michael came barreling off, lugging a green and yellow plaid suitcase behind him.

"Nice suitcase there Mikey."

"Yeah, It's my mom's. She uses it when she goes to the Poconos with my Uncle Vic. I don't have one of my own."

Dave had lent Brian his car for the weekend and Brian was relieved to find the vehicle, a brand new Jeep Wrangler convertible that Dave's father had bought him on orientation weekend, still in one piece.

"Where did you get this car, Brian?" Michael shouted when he saw it. "This is a Jeep Wrangler. A '90 too!"

"It's my roommate's. He let me borrow it."

"Oh that guy. The rich kid from L.A."

"His name is Dave, Mikey. And he's a good guy."

"But I'm still your best friend, right?"

"Of course, Mikey. Best friends forever."

Michael beamed and put his arms up behind his head.

"So is he going to be there this whole weekend and wanting to do things with us?"

"No. He's away this weekend. His team had a game in upstate New York."

"Good... He's not mean to you though, like the jocks in high school?"

"No, I told you Mikey, he's a good dude."

"Dude? Since when do you say dude?"

***************************************************

Brian parked the car in the lot and silently thanked the powers that be for the rainstorm— it greatly reduced their chances of randomly running into anyone he knew. They'd gotten past the front door and the lounge okay, and up the stairs to the second floor. "Here it is Mikey, the legendary college dorm room" he said and then, to his dismay, saw that the door to his room was wide open and loud REM music was coming from inside of it.

"Gold! You're here!" Dave was sitting on his bed entertaining two of his teammates and a couple of their other friends were scattered around Brian's bed and the floor.

"Well it's great to see you too, Kinney."

"It's just—- I thought you were going to Colgate."

"I was, but the game got cancelled because of the rain so we got as far as the New York border and then coach called from the rest stop and we turned around… So is this the famous Mikey?" he said, turning his attention to Michael, who was standing in the middle of the room with Debbie's green and yellow plaid suitcase, looking more than a little stunned. "It's a pleasure to meet the best friend of my best friend," Dave said extending his hand in greeting and flashing the Dave Gold smile. "I think that makes us almost related."

"You're not his best friend! I am!" Michael shouted, stomping his foot nervously. "I was his best friend first!"

"What is this guy, retarded or something, Kinney? What's his deal?" It was Todd Spier, one of Gold's teammates. He was sitting on the floor in front of Michael, looking him up and down.

Brian froze, speechless, but Dave jumped in "No he's not retarded, Spier. He's Kinney's friend from high school. Think about how you'd feel if you walked into a room with eight total strangers who all knew each other. You'd probably sound retarded too… and that's not a cool word to use either. It's mentally handicapped."

"There's our Californian," someone muttered from across the room.

"Just ignore these idiots, Michael and come and get yourself settled in."

Michael followed Dave to Brian's bed and Dave put his suitcase over in the corner. "That's Brian's bed. You can sit on it." Dave looked over at Brian and motioned for him to say something.

"Michael and I were friends in high school," Brian announced to the room. "His mom's a great cook— I used to spend a lot of time over there."

"Yeah, especially when his dad was drunk."

Brian froze again and Spier, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, looked up at the others, palms raised to the ceiling, as if to say "I rest my case."

"Mikey's got a crazy sense of humor," Brian stammered. "He's always saying stuff like that."

"So where do you go to school, Michael?" It was Staci Brown, a slightly pudgy brunette from Long Island who lived on their hall and sometimes gave Dave blow jobs when he was drunk. She'd even blown Brian one night too, after Dave talked her into it.

"Oh, school isn't for me," Michael said, pulling a comic book out of the inside pocket of his jacket and rolling it nervously in his hands. "I went to Allegheny Community for a semester, but then I dropped out. Now I work at Q-Mart."

"Q-Mart?" Staci looked as if a large turd had just landed on floor in front of her. "Is that where you got that— that suitcase?"

The resulting laughter didn't seem to register with Michael, who just shrugged and explained how it was really his mother's suitcase.

Brian looked over at Dave in desperation, but Dave just glared at him, widening his eyes and motioning with his head for Brian to stand up.

"Okay, that's enough guys." Brian's voice got stronger with every word. "Michael just got here and he and I want relax and chill out some. Why doesn't everybody just clear out and we can all hang out again later."

"I think that's a very good idea," Dave said. "Why doesn't everybody go and hang out in Spier's room. You can even take the CD with you."

Their friends filed out, a couple of them even remembering to shake hands with Michael and tell him it was good to meet him.

"Well let's try that again," Dave said, closing the door behind them. "Hi Michael. I'm Dave Gold, Brian's roommate. He talks about you all the time so I'm glad to finally get to meet you."

"He talks about you a lot too," Michael stammered, his eyes still glued to the floor.

"Hey, is that an AstroMan comic?" Dave asked? "I love AstroMan!"

"You do?" Michael looked up at Dave and smiled. "I have every AstroMan comic ever. Well except for a few that are really rare. You see there's this store…"

And Brian stood there, as if the conversation were happening on a television set and not in the room in front of him, watching his new best friend effortlessly charm his old best friend.

He was a spineless wimp who wouldn't stand up for Michael and still didn't know how to read people.

But somehow he had Gold, and Gold was magic. Even Mikey felt it.


	6. First Hand

Dave was drunk.

Brian could tell by the uneven footsteps, the keys crashing to the floor, the stream of piss that seemed to only hit the bowl half the time. Gold was a lightweight— three or four beers could get him trashed.

Brian looked at the clock and saw it was 2:45 in the morning. Dave probably didn't even realize he was here: he was supposed to have been at Lindsay's house, but she'd begged off sex, begged off him staying over, saying she had a stomachache and needed to study for her art history class the next morning.

It was the rejection that hurt Brian more than the lack of sex. He'd grown to love Lindsay, loved being with her, doing things with her. Hanging with Dave and the guys was fun, but it was a lot of work. Being with Lindsay, he could be himself, do things he'd read about in the newspaper like going to Thai restaurants or independent films. And Lindsay thought he was funny. And smart. And handsome.

It was the sex part that was the problem. Brian liked cuddling with Lindsay. He liked holding her hand and kissing her. But when it got to more than that, his body didn't seem to respond. He thought about Dave a lot, and about Dave fucking girls and Dave's thick cock going into some girl and that seemed to help. Or at least get him hard enough to complete the act. Blow jobs were easy: he could close his eyes and pretend Lindsay was Dave. Or Stier. Or some random guy at Babylon. It was the fucking that was a problem. Brian had to really work his imagination, pretend Lindsay's vagina was some hot guy's ass, in order to get hard some nights. Once he was in, it was fine— he was able to get into the moment, enjoy it, connect with Lindsay. It was just getting there that was a problem.

Fortunately, Lindsay didn't expect a whole lot of sex. She was sort of prudish about it: she never liked having the light on— and she wasn't disappointed if Brian feigned a headache or tiredness. In fact, she often seemed kind of relieved. Still, when they did do it, she seemed to like it, seemed surprised by how much she liked it and when he'd get her to orgasm, saying his name over and over "BrianBrianBrianBrian" it turned him on the most.

The past month or so, Lindsay had been having a lot of headaches and early morning study sessions, so Brian had taken to jerking off and as much as he wanted them not to be, his fantasies were always about guys, Dave in particular. A few times he'd even grabbed one of Dave's t-shirts out of the laundry and draped it over his face, armpit over his nose, inhaling the scent he'd come to know so well, imagining Dave fucking Lisa, the Cindy Crawford lookalike he'd been hooking up with this semester, imagining what it felt like to be sucking on Dave's hard cock.

"Kinney?" Dave's slurred voice snapped him out of his daydream. "Didn't realize you were here, dude. I thought you were at Lindsay's."

"You okay there Davey?

"Yeah, sure… I'm glad you're here.." He leaned down and planted a sloppy kiss on Brian's forehead . "I miss you superstar, you know that, right? You're my boy— you could tell me that you were a serial killer or your father was Hitler and you'd still be my boy."

"Same dude. Though it'd be pretty funny if your father was Hitler."

"Yeah, it would be," Dave laughed and stumbled backwards onto his bed and the see-saw breathing that told Brian he was asleep started pretty much immediately. At which point Brian touched the wet spot on his forehead where Gold had kissed him and stroked out a quick load.

******************************************************

The harder Brian tried to be straight, the more he failed, the guiltier he felt. He really cared for Lindsay, loved her even. He liked having a girlfriend, going on double dates with Dave and whoever he was banging that week, liked the way it made him feel to say "my girlfriend" to people.

But the gay thing wouldn't go away and the less interested Lindsay seemed in sex, the more interested he was in boys. So when Mikey sent him "the hottest ever" issue of First Hand, a gay jackoff magazine, he didn't chuck it into the garbage like it was radioactive waste, the way he normally did— he brought it back to the room with him and stuck it under his mattress where Dave was unlikely to find it.

Dave had left for baseball practice and so Brian knew he'd have the apartment to himself for at least two hours. He'd grabbed the copy of First Hand and left it open on his bed while he went to the bathroom to grab some lotion.

"Brian?"

He froze. It was Lindsay. What was she doing here? Fucking Gold never remembered to lock the door. "Brian?" She was headed for his bed.

He felt his stomach sink and raced out of the bathroom but Lindsay was already there, holding up the copy of First Hand with a look of disgust on her face.

"Well isn't this rich," she said, slapping the magazine on the bed. Brian's heart was pounding, sweat was pouring off of him. "I came over here today to tell you that I think I'm a lesbian. And guess what? You're one too."

"A lesbian?"

"A homosexual Brian. You're a homosexual.."

"It's not—"

"It's exactly what it seems like Brian. I should have known. The way you moon after Gold. The way you check out guys when we're out together. Why, Brian? Why?"

"Well shouldn't I be asking you the same question?"

"But I told you as soon as I figured it out. You were lying to me."

"I don't know." Brian sank down onto the bed next to Lindsay. "You're smart and beautiful and you're fun to be with and you make me feel good about myself and I kept thinking all those thoughts would finally go away. Only they didn't…"

Lindsay sighed. "I could tell you I didn't know what you were talking about, that none of the things you said resonated or sounded familiar. But I'd be lying, Brian. The same things went through my head. The same rationalizations. Wanting to be normal. You're a great friend Brian. You're a good person, you're kind and loyal and smart and funny and I really liked being your girlfriend"

Brian hung his head in his hands and Lindsay laced her arms around his neck, nuzzling him softly. "I love you Brian Kinney."

"I love you too Lindsay Peterson."

And then she started crying, softly at first, and then loudly and Brian was crying too, great big sobs that wracked his whole body.

"What are we going to do?" he whispered.

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know."

"I won't tell anybody if you don't want me to. But how much longer can you keep pretending?"

Brian explained to her how he'd been out in high school. Or at least out to Mikey. And how when he got to college he'd thought it might have been just a phase and how when he'd first met her he was sure of it.

"So are you going to tell Dave?"

The knot in his stomach got tighter and he nodded his head slowly. "I'll have to tell him first."

"Maybe he's gay too. Then you'd have your dream boyfriend."

"No," Brian shook his head sadly. "I'd know if he was, and he's not."

"I'm sorry," Lindsay said. "But I do know that he will be very understanding and that he won't abandon you. He's a very loyal friend to you and he loves you very much. Too much, sometimes, but he loves you."

"And what about you? What about your friends?"

"I'll just have to take my chances. Most of them will understand. Some of them, like Sarah, maybe not so much. I figured it's how you can tell who your real friends are."

She hugged him goodbye at the door and then Brian ran into the bathroom to throw up.


	7. A Fucking Freak

He'd been ready to tell Dave every day for the past five days, but just couldn't bring himself to do it, kept finding excuses and deciding that the closet was a better place to be, that he'd just come out after college, it would all be easier then.

Dave noticed that something was wrong, but Brian claimed a mild stomach virus, which his frequent diarrhea and vomiting seemed to back up.

He'd been sitting in the lounge that night, watching UCLA play Louisville in the second round of the Final Four and counting the number of casual "fag" jokes Dave and his friends made. He stopped counting when he hit 20.

There was a bottle of vodka in the freezer, Brian had been spending what little cash he had on liquor all week, and he'd drunk at least half of it by the time Dave got back to the suite they shared. This was not going to be easy. Dave would want him out, he'd want a different roommate. He'd have to find an apartment off campus or move in with Lindsay, who had offered him a place to sleep if indeed that was what occurred. And what if Dave got angry and hit him? He was a lot stronger than Brian and he had every right to be angry that the person he'd been calling his brother-from-another-mother was a faggot who'd been secretly lusting after him from the minute he laid eyes on him.

"You okay Kinney? You're all flushed."

"I'm okay… listen… we need to have a buddy chat."

"See, I knew there was something. Let me just pee first."

Brian paced nervously in front of the bathroom then took a seat on the couch next to Dave, who threw his arm around Brian's shoulder.

"So what's up?"

Brian looked up at Dave, determined to make eye contact. "I have to tell you something Dave and it's not easy for me so I'm just going to say it— you see, I'm—" and then the remains of that night's dinner came hurtling out of his stomach and onto Dave's lap.

"Fuck!" Dave yelled. "Are you okay Brian?"

Brian nodded slowly.

"Well help me get this cleaned up." They worked together in silence, Dave whipping off clothes and bringing them down to the laundry room, Brian cleaning up the floor and the couch, which had fortunately escaped the brunt of the vomit.

"Come here," Dave said once they were finished, pulling Brian closer to him in order to fit them both on the dry part of the couch. The fact that he was now shirtless did not make this any easier. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I'm gay, David," Brian said in a low voice. He forced himself to make eye contact with Gold who was looking at him tentatively, as if he wasn't sure whether this some sort of joke. "I didn't want to be gay, but I am." His voice started to crack and tears slid from his eyes.

"Oh Kinney!" Dave reached out and gripped Brian in a bear hug. "It's okay- I still love you dude. You're still my best friend. It doesn't matter who you want to sleep with. Nothing is different, it's all good."

Brian was crying hard now and Dave started rubbing his back, rocking him back and forth. "You are so fucking brave, Brian. I can only imagine how hard it was for you to say that out loud, bro. But I am so proud of you, superstar."

"Proud?" Brian looked up with tear streaked eyes.

"Proud that you have the courage to be who you are and not try and hide it. Proud that you trusted me enough to tell me. Proud that you're my best friend."

Gold took Brian's head between his hands and kissed him on the lips, the first time he'd ever done so. "I love you Brian Aiden Kinney. And I want you to know that I am always going to be here for you. Always."

Brian sunk his head into Dave's shoulder and just cried harder, embarrassed that he'd ever doubted Dave, embarrassed that he'd made Gold the subject of his fantasies.

"Just let it all out Bri. I'm here, buddy."

Brian had been crying on Dave's shoulder for a good twenty minutes. It would slow down and he'd catch his breath and then it would start up again and Dave would rub his back and whisper "shhhhh. It's okay, it's all gonna be okay."

"No, it's not!" Brian screamed. "It's not all going to be okay, Dave."

"Yes it is," Dave said softly, pulling a sobbing Brian back onto his shoulder. "I know it doesn't seem like it tonight, but it will be okay. The first step is the hard part, but once you get going it just gets easier."

When Brian began yet another crying spree, Dave walked them over to the freezer and got out the vodka. "Here, this'll calm your nerves down. Drink." And Brian's hands were shaking so hard Dave had to hold the bottle for him, or at least pretend to let Brian hold it while keeping it steady from up top.

The liquor settled his now-empty stomach, the warmth flowing through him almost instantly.

"You feeling a little better now?" Gold asked. Brian nodded. "Come here, I'll lay down with you till you fall asleep. You probably don't want to be alone right now… I don't think I do either."

Brian just nodded and let Gold guide him to the bed.

"And Kinney?" Brian looked up. "Don't worry about being naked in front of me or about snuggling or anything. In my mind, you're like a brother and I know you think of me the same way. There's nothing sexual between us— like I know we say "I love you" and kiss each other a lot, but it's just fraternal, and, and I don't want you to think you have to stop just because you're gay… cause I'm sure as fuck not."

Brian winced and nodded. Dave had no idea what went on his head and he'd be disgusted if he did.

Dave never made it back to his bed and so Brian woke up with his head on Dave's chest, his roommate's thick arms wrapped around him.

"Good morning superstar. You see this— your first day as a homosexual and you've already got the hottest guy in school spending the night in bed with you."

"It's good to have such a high opinion of yourself, Gold."

"Well if I don't who will?"

And then Dave set out the action plan for Brian's coming out, which started with them going to join the school's Gay-Straight Alliance. "I think they open at noon, so I'll go after chemistry," he informed Brian. "Then tomorrow tonight, I'll call a meeting for the Zeebs and the Tekes and tell everybody so we make sure people have your back."

Brian just nodded in slow motion.

"Are you cool with that? I mean we don't have to tell anybody. It could just be our secret. Whatever you want to do."

"Yeah," Brian said. "We'll see."

"Well just think about it and let me know, okay? You can't reverse something like that."

"Like what, Gold? Like being gay? You can't reverse that either."

"I know," Dave said quietly. "And you know that's not what I meant."

"Yeah…"

"This is going to be a tough week. But just know, that no matter what you say, what you do, you're still my superstar Kinney. And nothing is ever going to change that."

Brian put his head back down on Gold's chest. "Same… in a platonic, fraternal kind of way."

"Nutjob," Gold replied, and hugged Brian tighter.

Chris, the girl— at least Brian was pretty sure she was a girl— who was manning the Gay-Straight Alliance office told them that there was no actual way to sign up. "People just come to meetings. We're having a fund-raiser next month if you'd like to help with that."

A fund-raiser. Dave's eyes lit up. "What if I could get a bunch of frats and sororities to help out? And maybe not a bluegrass band but a DJ."

"We really like the bluegrass band… but you're welcome to come to the organizing meeting next week."

"Dude, we are so going to make this into the best party this school has ever seen," Dave told him on their way back to the dorms. "I know this kick-ass DJ from LA, and we'll make it like a night club— it'll be so awesome."

And Gold was magic. There was nothing he couldn't do.

Which is why Brian found himself in the main room of the ZBT house at 8 o'clock that night listening to Dave announce that "My best friend and roommate Brian Kinney just told me yesterday that he's gay. And I am so proud of him for refusing to hide who he is, for being proud and honest. And I know that all you guys will let him know how proud you are of him too. And how it's not going to change the way you treat him or affect your friendship with him. And if you're wondering whether he's checking you out, he's not. He's not even checking me out.. and I'm Dave Gold. And if anybody has a problem with him for being gay and I find out about it, I will rip your fucking head off. I just want to make that last point clear: I will rip your fucking head off!"

And everyone applauded and cheered and hugged him and told him it didn't matter and then they went to the TKE house next door and Gold repeated the speech only when he got the part about ripping people's heads off, Billy DeMiola, one the biggest meatheads on the lacrosse team, stood up and said that if Gold didn't rip their fucking heads off, he would. "My brother is gay," he mumbled by way of explanation, and again everyone hugged Brian and told them they were cool with him being gay, as if he'd had a choice in it.

It was a great big love fest the next 48 hours. Everywhere Brian went, people would come up to him, tell him they'd heard he had come out and that it was no big deal, he was still their friend, four different sorority girls told him that he was proof it was true that "all the good ones are gay" and a few more even offered to set him up with their gay cousins/neighbors/high school friends. And of course every single person told him that they had no idea, that he didn't "seem gay."

"So what makes a guy hot to you?"

They were sitting watching Letterman three nights after Brian came out when Dave asked the question from out of nowhere. Brian almost dropped the bowl of pretzels in his lap.

"It's not that strange a question, Kinney. I know what makes a girl hot to me. I like boobs, butts and a pretty face. Girls who have a little meat on them, not the super skinny ones."

"I don't know.."

"Well, like, name an actor you think is hot."

"Patrick Swayze… Marky Mark."

"So you like guys with some meat on them, not like skinny guys."

"I guess, Dave."

"Why is this making you so uncomfortable Kinney? I'm just trying to process all this. It's like there's this big part of you I don't know anymore and I don't like that."

Brian started tearing up again. He didn't like being so different.

"Hey, I know it's tough. But the more we talk about it, the more normal it becomes. And that's what we want, right? For you being gay to be just another thing, like that you have brown hair."

Brian stared at the TV. "But it's not fucking normal, Dave. It's not just like having brown hair."

"Of course it is. It's who you are."

"NO IT'S NOT!" Brian was shouting and he wasn't sure where it was coming from. He shouldn't have had that fourth beer, but the alcohol helped him to not feel the terror he'd been feeling all week. "It's not fucking normal, Dave. Don't you get it? I'm a freak! A fucking freak! Your best friend, your superstar, is a fucking freak that people make cocksucker jokes about when he walks away." He flung the bowl of pretzels to the floor. "I'M A FUCKING FREAK!"

"You are NOT a freak, Kinney!" Dave jumped up and pulled Brian, who was crying and heaving, to his chest. "YOU ARE NOT A FREAK! You are beautiful sweet boy who everybody loves."

"No David— YOU! YOU are a beautiful sweet boy who everybody loves. I'm the fucking freak roommate. The gay one. The one who probably has AIDS. The one who's never going to get married, never have kids. The fucking freak!"

Dave just hugged him harder. "You are not a freak Kinney. You will never be a freak. I don't want to fucking hear you talking like this. You are only a freak if you let them make you one!"

"A FREAK! I'M A FUCKING FREAK!" Brian collapsed into Dave's arms, sobbing hysterically.

"Brian, Brian, get a grip buddy. It's okay." Dave stroked his back and kissed the top of his head but Brian couldn't stop crying. He started gagging and Dave rushed him into the bathroom and when he finished throwing up he was still crying and then he was just dry heaving and Dave was trying to give him some vodka to calm him down and he took two shots and spit three more out because he was crying too hard to swallow them and Dave was stroking his back and telling him "you're scaring me, buddy. It's all going to be okay. Why are you being like this?"

And he was okay for a while and Gold even got him to lie down in the bed and then the vodka wore off and he was scared and he couldn't breathe and Dave was having him breathe into a paper bag and Dave was crying now too and then Brian was screaming again, "WHY ME? WHY ME DAVEY?" over and over again, "WHY ME? WHY ME DAVEY?" and then he was punching and kicking the bed and Gold was crying and saying he didn't know, nobody knew, at least he was still alive and had all his limbs and wasn't in a wheelchair but Gold didn't realize that being gay was worse than being in a wheelchair and Brian started scratching at his own face and screaming that he was freak and Gold was holding his hands down and he was shaking too and saying "don't leave me, don't leave me," and Brian curled up in a ball went to sleep.

And then he shut down and so the next morning Dave couldn't get him to wake up, couldn't get him to even make eye contact. And the next day and the day after that. And Brian saw Dave and saw that he was talking to him but it felt like he was underwater in a cave where no one could see him and he felt safe there and the thought of leaving the cave terrified him.

And so when Lindsay walked into the room on the fourth day, she found Dave with a tray from the cafeteria, chewing up bites of hamburger, spitting them out into his hand and then forcing them into Brian's mouth, along with sips of Gatorade that he was shooting into Brian's mouth with a straw.

"He won't eat," Gold told Lindsay by way of explanation. "He'll starve himself to death." He told her the full story of Brian's freakout, how he didn't know what to do and how scared he was.

"Oh Brian. My poor, poor Brian." Lindsay knelt down beside him and kissed his face, but Brian just stared out blankly and gave no response at all.

"You can't keep doing this, he needs to go to a hospital, Dave."

"No! He doesn't need a hospital. He's just tired."

"Tired? You think this is because he's tired David? He's in a severe depression. He needs help."

"I know… I know. It's just… I don't want him to have to deal with being gay and being a mental patient. Not together. It'll be too much."

"Look David. I know you love him. I know that for as badly as you treat women, you treat Brian like a prince and you want to protect him. But this isn't working and you're only going to wind up hurting him— he's going to get to a point where the doctors can't help him anymore."

Dave shook his head no. "Give me three more days. I swear I can get through to him. And if not, then we'll take him to New York, to a real hospital. I can pay for it."

"I don't feel good about that Dave. You're not a doctor,"

"But I play one on TV… come on Lindsay, three more days." And he forced himself to flash her the Dave Gold smile.

"Okay. But no more." She got up to leave but then paused, her hand on the door. "You're an amazing friend Dave."

"So is he."

"I know," she said, and smiled wistfully.

And another day passed and then another and Brian didn't eat, didn't move, He shit his pants that day too and Dave had to pull them off and clean him up. But he did it, he fed Brian and sponge bathed him and kept all their friends away and only left the room when Lindsay came by to sit with Brian for two hours so Dave could still make baseball practice.

Tomorrow, he was going to have to take Brian to Bellevue Hospital in New York, where they seemed to know about these sorts of things and he'd probably never come back to school and Dave would be all alone again.

He was crying softly to himself, running his hand through Brian's hair and thinking about his grandfather, about a song his grandfather used to sing to him. It was corny and sappy and his grandfather couldn't sing, but sometimes he'd play the record for Dave before he went to sleep and they'd sing along with it and nothing had ever made Dave feel more safe and loved.

He placed Brian's head gently on his chest, the large hazel eyes staring blankly out into space, stroked his hair and slowly began singing to him.

_You and me against the world, sometimes it feels like you and me against the world_

He couldn't believe he still remembered the lyrics.

_When all the others turn their backs and walk away, you can count on me to stay_

_Remember when the circus came to town, and you were frightened by the clown. _  
_Wasn't it nice to be around someone that you knew, someone who was big and strong and looking out for you._

Brian wasn't moving, but singing was making Dave feel better, so he kept at it.

_You and me against the world. Sometimes it feels like you and me against the world._  
_And for all the times we cried, I always felt that God was on our side._

Somewhere Gold was singing to him. He could feel it through the fog down in his cave. Gold was singing to him and stroking his hair.

_And when one of us is gone, and one of us is left to carry on_

Dave was crying now, the tears streaming down his face onto Brian's and Brian could feel it now, something warm and wet on his face, Gold's deep voice reverberating through him, urging him to come out of the cave.

_Then remembering will have to do,_  
_Our memories alone will get us through_

He should thank Dave for singing to him. it was a nice song. He remembered it from when he was a kid.

_Think about the days of me and you_  
_You and me against the world_

Dave buried his face in Brian's hair, not caring how loudly he was crying.

"Davey? Davey you're crying."

Gold looked up at Brian and started crying harder, his tears mixed with laughter. "Kinney! Kinney!" He covered Brian's face with kisses. "Oh my God! I was so scared, I thought we'd lost you. Kinney!" He squeezed Brian tightly. "Oh God-Oh God-Oh God— I am so fucking happy you're back."

"I'm not happy Davey. I'm sad. Very, very sad." Brian's voice was robotic, he didn't sound like himself.

"I know you are superstar. But we're going to figure out how to make you happy again."

"What song were you singing to me?"

"An old sappy one. My grandfather used to sing it to me before I went to sleep."

"You loved your grandpa."

"I did," Dave said, fighting back tears.

"Sing it to me again."

"I have a horrible voice Kinney. I sound like a wounded moose."

"It's okay. I want to hear you sing to me."

And so Dave started again

_You and me against the world_

He grabbed Brian's chin and looked him in the eyes as he sang

_Sometimes it feels like you and me against the world_

_When all the others turn their backs and walk away, you can count on me to stay_

Brian was nodding along, still maintaining eye contact.

"I love you Davey."

"I love you too man… I just never, ever knew how much. I am so lost without you Kinney"

He grabbed Brian and hugged him to his chest, stroking the back of his head, forcing himself to be strong for Brian.

And Gold was magic. He was going to help him get out of the cave.


	8. Endorphins

The next day Dave drove them to Philly and got them on a flight to LA. He didn't know how he was going to cure Brian, but he knew they needed to get away from school, and that everything was easier in LA and as soon as the plane touched down at LAX he knew he'd made the right decision because LA always felt right, felt safe, felt like home.

His mother wasn't there, Carmen, the housekeeper thought she'd gone to Paris, but wasn't sure when she'd be back and that was fine because she'd only be in the way.

Brian was still talking like a robot, crying uncontrollably at times and didn't want to leave the bed.

Sometimes he'd make bland observations about how Dave's hair was brown or that the walls were light blue and other times he'd lash out at Gold, telling him he was a dumb jock, that everyone at school thought he was an obnoxious conceited asshole, and one time when Dave called him "superstar" he scowled and said "do you think calling each other by some dumb nickname really makes us closer Dave? Like if you repeat it enough times, we might magically become better friends?"

And Dave didn't answer even though it hurt, even though it felt like Brian was ripping his heart out. He'd found a book at the airport about depression and it talked a lot about how depressed people lash out at everyone, especially the people they love most, saying the most hurtful things possible in an effort to drive them away.

"Do you know I used to jerk off about you Gold?" Dave had been reading the _LA Times_ sports section and looked up slowly at Brian. "I used to imagine your hard cock, which I've seen countless times and what it would feel like between my lips, inside my tight ass. And I would take your sweaty t-shirts out of the laundry basket and smell the armpits while I jerked off, imagining that my big baseball stud was all sweaty on top of me, kissing me and shoving his big thick cock in and out of my ass."

"Wow, Kinney, that sounds kind of hot." Dave said, slowly, not sure what to make of this new tactic of Brian's.

"You think it's hot, Davey? Why don't you fuck me now, make me your bitch. Come here," and he reached his hands under Dave's t-shirt and started stroking his chest, running his hands through Dave's chest hair, finding his nipples and rolling them between his fingers. "Come on, give big gay Brian a kiss, make the little faggot happy."

And it made Dave mad enough that he leaned in and kissed him, felt Brian's tongue enter his mouth, felt Brian's stubble against his chin, felt the pressure from his lips, felt nothing else. He was thinking that Kinney needed to brush his teeth, he could still taste the garlic from last night's pizza and that he used a lot more tongue action than Dave usually did and that he should try the biting the lower lip thing the next time he kissed a girl.

Brian broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against Dave's, his hand on the back of Dave's neck.

"You're a very good kisser, Kinney."

"But you didn't feel anything," Brian said, rubbing his hand over Dave's basketball shorts, tracing the outline of his still soft penis.

"No." Dave leaned in and kissed Brian again, taking the lead this time. "No," he said as he pulled away. "Nothing."

Brian started crying and Dave held him and rubbed his shoulders. "I wish I did feel something, superstar. You'd make the best boyfriend ever. You love me and you already know how to put up with all my crap."

They laid like that for a while and then Brian started crying again. "I'm sorry, Gold. Don't— don't hate me."

"For what?"

"For trying to make you gay."

"You can't make someone gay Kinney. They either are or they aren't. And besides," he said, gently massaging Brian's neck, "you tried to be straight for me for two and a half years. The least I could do was try to be gay for you for ten minutes."

And Gold was magic and Brian didn't deserve him.

*****************************************************************************  
The book said that exercise seemed to help people with depression, that it released endorphins into their system that made them feel better. So Dave started taking Brian running, driving the 15 minutes down to Santa Monica each morning so they could run along the beach, ending up at Perry's for an iced coffee and vegetarian breakfast burrito eaten on beach chairs in the sand.

Brian was building up his stamina, he could go for 4 miles now without taking a break. And every so often Dave would catch glimpses of the real Brian come through, either in something he said or, more often, in the look on his face, the lopsided grin he'd occasionally flash. And it was good to be back in LA, where every day was the same and you always knew what to expect.

He'd gone to talk to a psychiatrist that week, the father of one of his high school friends, who'd told him that Brian needed to be cared for by professionals, given medication and that Dave was being reckless by trying to nurse him by himself. That was the word he'd used "reckless." But he didn't want Kinney on medication, knew Brian wouldn't want it either, and so he thanked Dr. Katz for his time and went back to the carefully measured routine he'd set up, marked out on charts scattered throughout the den, each one filled in as carefully and intricately as a baseball scorecard.

"Why are you doing this for me Davey?" Brian asked as Dave hovered over him on the massage table he'd discovered in the garage, rubbing eucalyptus scented aromatherapy oil into Brian's back, his legs, and his feet. "You're going to have to repeat the semester and you're missing baseball season."

"Because you would do it for me.. that's what brothers are for… and it's not like I was going to be a pro baseball player anyway."

He turned Brian over and rubbed the oil on his thighs, noticed that Brian was getting hard and smiled because it was a sign that Brian was getting better and then he turned him back over and massaged his scalp, increasing the pressure around Brian's temples.

"I want you to think about going back to school. Imagine yourself in your classes and the professor says that Alexander the Great was probably gay and everybody in the class turns and looks at you. And then we're all hanging out in the house and someone says 'I can't stand that guy, he's such a little faggot,' and then people start elbowing each other and he says 'sorry Kinney, not like you.' How does that feel?"

"Like shit Davey, how is it supposed to feel?"

Dave could feel Brian tighten up and then wilt beneath his fingers. "I don't know. A lot of this stuff is going to hurt and make you feel bad. We just have to make you strong enough to withstand it. And we are making excellent progress, superstar," he said, turning to write something on the chart marked "Massage" in bright blue ink and add another dot to a graph he had going at the bottom of it. "You are so much better now than you were even last week… now go get dressed— I have a big surprise for you."

*****************************************************  
"Are we going on a trip?" Brian asked when Dave turned off at the exit for LAX.

"No. A trip is coming to us— and that's all you're getting out of me."

Fifteen minutes later, a nervous looking Michael Novotny came tottering off the plane, rolling the new black suitcase Dave had also paid for behind him.

"Mikey!" Brian ran up to his friend and hugged him tightly. "I can't believe you— Dave, you-Oh Mikey!— thank you!" And he threw one arm over Dave and one over Michael and tears were streaming down his face.

"Shit," Dave said when they got to the car. "You're gonna have to sit in Brian's lap Michael. I should have taken the other car."

"Wait! This is your car?"

"This is Charlotte," Brian said. "That's what Gold named her."

"This is a Mercedes." Michael stated, as if neither Gold nor Brian had ever noticed. "This is a red Mercedes convertible."

"Why don't you drive her," Dave said, tossing Michael the keys. "Kinney can sit on my lap."

"This is fucking amazing!" Michael shouted as they merged onto the 405. "My first trip on an airplane! Driving an actual Mercedes! This sure has Pittsburgh beat, huh Brian!"

And Brian was smiling, something he hadn't done in almost two months.

************************************************************

"So they don't mind if all of us stay here, Gold?"

"Well it's just my mom— my parents are divorced. And she's not even here this week— she's up in Malibu with her new boyfriend."

"I meant whoever owns this place," Michael said, gesturing at the walls. "What is this anyway, like a sanitarium?"

"This is my bedroom, Michael. This is my house."

"You— you live in this place?"

"It's where I grew up."

"This room…" Michael looked around in amazement. "It's bigger than my whole house. And those rooms out there?"

"The downstairs is mine. It's just me and my mom here."

"You could go days without seeing her," Michael marveled.

"And I often do. Now go unpack and I'll fill you in on Kinney Care."

************************************************************************************  
Dave took Michael through all his charts, patiently explaining, as much to himself as to Michael, his methodology. There were notations for amount of time, mood of patient, evaluations for general effectiveness and Michael was impressed and somewhat dazzled by how official it all looked.

"Now the key is physical activity and physical contact. They both release endorphins and that helps him feel better. So no laying around reading comic books and you should hug him as much as possible. Oh— and no junk food. Fruits, vegetables, protein— I've been grilling stuff for dinner almost every day and you can see here, his appetite seems to be picking up some. Still wish he'd gain another 5 pounds though."

"What about getting high?"

"No! No drugs. No alcohol— those are depressants, they'll make him worse."

"You know I'm right here guys. I can hear you." Brian looked up at them and waved.

"I like that," Dave said. "It sounds like him again." He opened up a notebook and made a notation in it.

"You should become a doctor, Davey. You're really good at all this."

"I am. Seriously Kinney— I've been thinking about it since we've been out here and I decided I want to go med school. I really like helping people and I like science and I think I'd be a really good doctor."

"Well your patient could use a glass of cold water. He's very thirsty."

"Get your gay ass in gear and get it yourself."

"I love it when he gets tough with me Mikey. He's so macho."

"I'm serious Kinney. I want you to go upstairs, to the kitchen, where you'll probably run into someone and get yourself a glass of water."

"Who's up there?" Mikey asked cautiously.

"I don't know," Dave said more sharply than he'd intended. "One of the maids or one of the gardeners."

Mikey's eyes bulged.

"You just stay here with me, Mikey. I need that disgusting faggot Brian Kinney to go and do something without you or me there, to actually be around other people, even for just a minute."

Walking upstairs alone was harder than Brian had thought. His heart started hammering when he got to the first step and he got stuck on the third step.

"You can do this you little cock sucking homo. Just visualize yourself walking in there. This is my house. It's safe here. You can do this faggot."

"Why are you insulting him like that?" Mikey stage whispered.

"Because that's what he calls himself in his head and he needs to learn to stop, right gay boy?"

Mikey looked petrified, but Dave stared at Brian determinedly, as if he was pushing him forward with the sheer force of his personality and slowly Brian got to the top of the steps and opened the double door that led to the kitchen and there was a maid there who wasn't Carmen, an older woman, and he smiled at her and said "agua" and made a gesture with his hands like he was drinking and she put down the Lemon Pledge and scurried over to the refrigerator with a glass and filled it for him, even though all he'd intended was to let her know what he was doing up there and he smiled and thanked her and went back down the stairs where Michael and Dave started applauding him.

"So do I get a standing ovation for actually drinking it?"

"No, you get a kiss, you queer," Mikey said and he smiled joyfully as Brian downed the water in one gulp and planted an open mouth kiss on his lips. Dave watched them thoughtfully and then added a note to the back of one of his charts.

**********************************************************************

"So how do you guys know which one is going to be the top?"

They'd been sitting in the den next to Dave's bedroom, relaxing after taking Michael to Disneyland for the day, a trip Dave wasn't sure had been the best move for Brian, but the sheer child-like joy on Michael's face seemed to make Brian happy and he'd remained happy and engaged the entire trip, despite the crowds, despite Dave sometimes coming up behind him and whispering "faggot" in his ear and at the end he'd leaned back and whispered "breeder" in Gold's ear in response and Dave had gripped his shoulders and shouted "that's my boy," and done a little happy jig in tune to the Country Bears Jamboree Band which even got Brian to laugh.

"Well, you just do," Michael blurted out..

"But how? I mean do you call it like you'd call shotgun or is it more of a mind game."

"Well I'm always the bottom," Michael said.

"But how—"

"It's a mind game," Brian cut in. "You kind of size each other up and then one of you winds up on top or getting his dick sucked."

"You're quite the expert there Kinney."

"I told you David, this isn't my first time at the rodeo. Right Mikey?"

Michael beamed at the mention of his name.

"So when did you start?"

"When I was fourteen, I sucked off my gym teacher in the shower."

"Yeah, right, Kinney."

"He did, Gold."

"It was after school in the locker rooms. I went back for something: a book, my jockstrap, I don't remember. He was a young guy, I had a big crush on him and there he was, all naked, soaping himself. He saw me there, a big boner under my chinos. I walked right into the showers with all my clothes on. Got down on my knees and sucked him off right there."

"It's true," Michael nodded. "He told me about it that same night."

"Did I shock you superstar?"

"No… yeah, you did actually… it's just a lot to take in." Dave got up and started to walk out into the back yard. "We need to take Mikey to the airport in a bit… you guys should say your goodbyes."

*****************************************************************  
Three days later, Dave and Brian were sitting in the den, each reading a part of the _L.A. Time_s. They hadn't made more than innocuous conversation since the night Michael left and the sound of cicadas from the backyard, coming in through the open door, only made the silence louder.

"You fucking asked, Gold! I wasn't going to lie to you." Brian slammed the paper down on the couch and looked over at Dave.

"I know I did. I just wasn't prepared for the answer."

"It's who I am David."

"I know. And I want to know— I want to know all of it. It's just— there's so much stuff you kept hidden. It's like I thought I knew you. Knew everything about you. You were my boy, my brother-from-another-mother. And now I find out there's this whole other life you had, this whole other Brian and its wasn't like you hid it— Mikey knew all about it. And it's just a lot to take in…"

"And if you'd known about this whole other life from the start, would we have ever become friends?"

"Of course… I don't know Kinney," he sighed. "I'd like to say yes. I'd like to think that the things we have in common, the reasons we bonded, the reasons I love you— that those would have been more important. But if you'd showed up on day one telling me how you sucked off your gym teacher in the shower… probably not."

"So what do we do now?"

"We get you better."

"I mean after that."

"I don't know. What do you want to do? You could transfer. Go someplace like New York where there's a lot of gay people and you could be part of the community… or you could come back to Lehigh and be the same guy you were, only gay. It probably wouldn't be all that different except you wouldn't be scamming girls anymore."

"And if I transferred?"

"I'd come visit you a couple of times. It'd be a little awkward. More than a little awkward. Some dumb ass LA frat boy trying to fit in with your new gay friends. And we'd write to each other and call and then we wouldn't and then every so often something would happen and I'd think about you and wonder what you were up to and if you were okay."

Dave looked up and saw the tears sliding down Brian's cheeks. "Oh God, Kinney, I'm sorry—" He jumped up and took Brian into his arms, rolling them both back on the couch. "I could never forget you Brian. You know that."

**************************************************************

"So there's not much more to tell, Davey." Dave was lying on his back in the dark, laying on one part of the L-shaped couch in the den, Brian perpendicular to him, his head resting on Dave's chest. "Mikey and I used to go to Babylon— it's the biggest gay club in Pittsburgh. There's this room there— the back room— and guys go there to have sex. And you'd meet some guy on the dance floor and you'd just go back there…"

"Weren't you afraid. I mean of AIDS?"

"All the time. But I was careful. I only got blow jobs. And if I fucked, it was always with a condom."

"You fucked guys there?"

"Does that shock you?"

"No. Not any more. Did you ever get fucked?"

"A couple of times. I didn't really like it though. And I was scared. Of AIDS."

"So why did you let them?"

"Curiosity. I wanted to see what it felt like."

"I can't believe we're having this conversation."

"But we are."

"I know. And we need to. You just need to give me a little time to process it. And I suspect you'll need some time yourself."

"Yeah."

"So were these all guys our age, like other high school or college kids?"

"No. Usually older. Twenties. Thirties."

"So those girls in Cabo— that wasn't even such a big deal for you."

"No, it was Dave. It was a big deal. In Babylon you never talked to the guy. Except maybe to ask him to go downstairs"

Dave sighed and stroked Brian's hair.

"I wasn't trying to lie to you superstar." Brian said.

"Oh?"

"When I met you, I kept thinking I could become straight. That you could help me become straight. And I wanted to be straight. More than anything in the world. I was starting over. College was a whole new life for me. I mean nobody I knew in high school even went to college, Gold. It wasn't Brentwood. And I just wanted to be normal. Just a regular college kid. Not some guy getting blow jobs in the back room at Babylon."

Dave squeezed him harder. "It must have been so hard for you dude. I wish I would have known, I could have helped you. But now— now that I know, I can help you. You don't have to do this alone Kinney. I'm here."

"What can you do Davey? You're straight."

Dave frowned and shut his eyes and they lay like that for half the night. Neither one sleeping. Both afraid of what would happen if they let go, afraid of what would happen if they didn't.

"Do you hate me?"

"You're lying on top of me with your head on my chest and I'm stroking your hair Kinney. And you want to know if I hate you?"

"You didn't answer me."

"No. I don't hate you. It's just… a lot to take in. I feel like our roles kind of got swapped just now and I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing. I mean since I've known you, Kinney, I've always felt like the big brother. You were this sweet kid from some trailer park part of Pittsburgh who got out by keeping your head down and studying a lot. You didn't play sports. You had one goofy friend who was like Rain Man and worked at Q-Mart. You were a fucking virgin when we got to college. Or I thought you were. And it felt like I was always showing you stuff. And I liked that because you were so different than anyone I'd ever known, and you were such a quick study and you made me laugh and you understood what it felt like to know you were all alone in the world and I just… I just felt happy when we were together."

"You really did open up a whole world to me, Gold. I remember, freshman year, one day you were telling me about how you'd spent your eighteenth birthday at a nightclub in Paris, making out with an Italian princess. Like an actual royal princess. And I kept thinking how amazing it was that this guy wanted to be friends with me… I spent my eighteenth birthday at a gay bar in Pittsburgh with Michael, hoping that somebody would buy me a beer."

"She wasn't a real princess Kinney— she just had the title— Italy doesn't even have a king anymore—"

"You're cute when you get embarrassed about being rich Davey."

"Yeah, well… So did you at least get laid that night?"

"I did… twice."

"Well that's twice more than I did."

"Oh come on Gold, you get laid more than anyone I know. Everything's just so easy for you. You went through high school never worrying about what you were doing on a Saturday night. If there was a hot party, Dave Gold was always invited. Same thing at Lehigh. You just walk into places and you're at home."

"Is that what you think?"

"It's true David. I get that some of it is an act, that you had to learn to speak up for yourself when you were a kid, to ingratiate yourself to other people because Ken and Barbara weren't around to lool out for you. But you're good at it dude. And it comes pretty naturally."

"Yeah?"

"You are incredibly self-confident Gold. And I can't tell you how much I envy that."

"Well if Jack and Joan hadn't told you that you were a piece of shit for 18 years, maybe you would be too."

Brian shrugged his shoulders and when he exhaled he started crying a little bit, more than he'd expected.

"You okay Bri?" Dave moved over to Brian's half of the couch, rolled his friend over so Brian was lying on top of him, his head on Dave's chest.

"Just a little sad. It comes and goes dude."

Dave leaned over and kissed him on the top of the head, rubbing Brian between the shoulder blades till he'd finally calmed down.

He kissed Brian on the head again, and started stroking his hair. "We should talk about this too, Kinney. You and I have this… this… I mean what would someone think if they saw us? Couples don't kiss and snuggle and cuddle as much as we do. And we're always saying I love you to each other. Me probably even more than you. We're like a pair of newlyweds except we don't ever fuck."

"And you're afraid people might think that's kind of, I don't know, Davey.. gay?" Brian lifted his head off Dave's chest. "Because you know it was one thing when we were both straight, people thought how sweet it was that Dave and Brian were so affectionate with each other. But now that I'm a fag, they might think you're one too."

"Who the fuck cares. And you know that's not what I meant."

"Oh. So you meant how we never talk about how fucked up we are, Dave? About how scared and hurt we both are."

"That's what walls are for Kinney. So we don't have to talk about things that make us uncomfortable. You and I have each thrown up so many of them we've lost track, but for some reason it feels safe to take them down for each other."

"You have walls, Davey? Gosh, I'd never noticed, I thought hitting a baseball for three hours straight was the answer to all life's problems."

"You should try it sometime."

"And not to beat a dead horse, but I'm not some fucking gay sex demon. A dozen nights at a second rate homo haven in Pittsburgh doesn't exactly qualify."

"So is it weird for you in that world Brian?" Dave scooted himself up so he was lying next to Brian and they turned towards each other, making eye contact for the first time all night. "I mean you're not, you know, feminine like a lot of gay guys and I just don't see you being a leather daddy. I mean, are there other guys like you… like us?"

Brian sighed. "No, there aren't Davey. I'm as much of a freak in that world as I am in this one. It was never 'somewhere over the rainbow' for me. That's why I don't go to those places to make friends.. I go to get laid."

"Sounds kind of bleak."

"I'm never going to fall in love, Davey. Not with a guy. That's just not in the cards for me."

"You never know Kinney. Though you and I are both like camels that way. We can go a long time without love."

"We can. But when we find it, we drink pretty deeply and just store it up."

They lay there for a while letting that sink in, and then Dave grabbed Brian's face between his hands. "Dude, you're my love oasis!"

Brian looked at him for a minute and started laughing and Dave did too, the two of them laughing so hard they almost fell off the couch.

"The Superstar Love Oasis!" Brian shouted and they kissed each other, hard, on the lips and Brian flung his arms around Dave's neck and buried his head in his chest and Dave hugged him in tightly and in no time flat they were both sound asleep.

****************************************************

"We seem to keep ending up like this," Gold noted, when Brian opened his eyes that morning. He was lying on Dave's chest and the boys were tangled up in each other's arms and legs.

"You saved my life."

"You'd have done the same for me."

"No… I would have tried, but I wouldn't have succeeded… not like you."

"You sell yourself short, Kinney."

"Maybe."

"You know for a while there yesterday, I wasn't sure where we were going to net out, you know, it seemed like we were heading to a bad place. And then I guess we kind of did a 180. We said a lot of things that needed to be said yesterday Brian. And I learned a lot about you— not just about the sex— that was important to talk about, but all the other stuff too, like how we felt about each other. When you're together all the time, you just never see the need to have those conversations."

"Yeah."

Dave started rubbing Brian's back. "And you know the thing is, when I look at you this morning, knowing that there's so much more to you, that you're way more complex and nuanced than I'd ever imagined, and yeah, way more fragile and wounded too, well, I realize that I love you even more than I ever thought possible."

And Brian smiled broadly at that and put his head back down on Dave's chest and Dave felt the muscles in Brian's shoulders relax and in that moment he realized that what he'd said was actually true, that he really did love Brian more than he ever thought possible.


	9. Balls

The fluorescent light was making his skin look gray. Or maybe it was the cancer. Either way, with all the noise in the hallway, he wasn't going to sleep anytime soon and realized he should have brought a book with him to the hospital or at least the latest issue of _Details_.

At least he hadn't brought Mikey or even Ted. That would only have made things worse. They'd be buzzing around worrying, making him feel like a cripple. Tomorrow it would all be over. Or at least the worst of it. He started to imagine the doctor telling him they hadn't caught all of it, but he stopped himself. There was no use dwelling on the negative. At least not now, without any hope of a bump or some X to take the edge off.

Yet another doctor barged into the room and started flipping through his chart. The guy was still dressed for surgery, hadn't even bothered to take his mask or surgical cap off.

"Meester Keeneey,?" the doctor asked. Why couldn't they at least get him an American doctor. "Eet say here you are soooperstar. Yes?"

"What?"

"Eeet say here you are sooperstar."

"What are you talking about?"

"Superstar" the doctor said, whipping off his mask and surgical cap. "It says that you're a fucking superstar."

"What the fuck are you doing here Gold?" Brian was trying to sound angry but wasn't doing a very good job of it.

"Do you think I'd let my brother go under the knife all by himself?"

"I don't need you here Dave. Go home."

"The Lakers game is on, you mind if we watch?" Dave asked, picking the remote off the bed tray and plopping himself down in the chair next to Brian's bed.

"I said go home Gold. I don't want you here."

"They're playing Phoenix— it's already the third quarter." He took Brian's hand into his and ran his thumb along the fleshy part between Brian's thumb and forefinger, a gesture Brian promptly reciprocated.

When the commercials came on at the end of the quarter, Dave looked over at Brian who was smiling contentedly. "If he was a cat, he'd be purring," Dave thought to himself and he squeezed Brian's hand again. That was the great thing about Kinney— they rarely needed to talk anymore, everything was just understood.

He'd called Dave from the car as soon as he'd gotten the diagnosis, and Gold had been a lifesaver, calmly talking him through his options, telling him how testicular cancer had an incredibly high survival rate, calling Brian's doctor and grilling him about the test results and the surgery and then explaining everything to Brian in plain English.

It annoyed Brian to rely on Dave so much, even after 15 years he'd never fully gotten used to the imbalance in their relationship. Although since he'd met Justin he'd begun to understand what Dave got out of it, how having someone rely on you could actually make you feel really good.

"So how you feeling?"

"Fit as a cancer ridden fiddle, Doc."

Dave took a small flashlight like object out of his pocket and waved it over Brian's eyes. "Simon Says look up," he commanded. "Simon Says look down… Simon Says look the the right… look to the left."

Brian looked to the left.

"I didn't say Simon Says…" Brian shook his head at Dave. "You look okay Kinney. I thought your left pupil looked a little dilated, but it was nothing."

At the end of the fourth quarter, the Lakers having lost by 7, Dave walked over to the foot of the bed and took out Brian's chart. "So let me explain to you exactly what they're going to do tomorrow. It'll seem a lot less scary once you know." He sat down on the bed next to Brian, put his arm around him and patiently explained everything in layman's terms, what they were doing and why, what he could expect and what he would feel at every step of the procedure.

"Now I have to ask you something that's a little unpleasant, but it's very important."

"Please spare me the lectures about drugs and unsafe sex, Doctor Dave."

"We'll save those till after the operation," Dave said. "But that's not what I need to talk to you about, Kinney. I need to know if you have a will."

"A will?"

"No— don't worry, it's a simple procedure with excellent results," Dave said, reading the expression on Brian's face. "It's just that as your next of kin—" Dave pointed out the place on Brian's chart where he was listed as such— "I need to know if you have a living will— if you want to remain on life support—"

"Think about that one Davey."

"I still need to hear you say it, and also to sign this," he said, producing a folded up paper from the pocket of his scrubs. "It's not really valid without a notary, but it's something. Do you have a regular will, by the way?"

"Is there a particular vase of mine you were hoping to inherit Dave?"

"You're doing well enough— the business, the loft— that you should have something. Ted never made you draw one up?" Dave didn't wait for Brian to answer. "No, of course not, he's scared of you. All those guys are scared of Brian Kinney, King of the Queers." He looked up at Brian and shook his head at him. "I, on the other hand, know you too well to let you get away with shit."

"Which is why you're sitting here and they're not."

"I don't seem to recall getting an invitation."

"You don't need one. You never do, superstar " Brian stretched his arm out and placed the cowrie shell bracelet on his wrist next to the identical one on Dave's wrist. These were their "buddy bracelets" that they'd gotten on a trip to Mexico Thanksgiving of their sophomore year of college.

Dave looked down at the bracelets and smiled. "When you get back to Pittsburgh, go have a will made."

"Okay, Dave."

"Seriously, Bri- you want Gus to be taken care of— and given the complexity of your situation and all the legal ambiguity— you need to find a lawyer who understands all that— someone who specializes in T&E and who's done work with gay parents before."

Brian nodded his head mechanically.

"And I'm going to check up on you in a month and if you haven't done it, I'm going to remove the other testicle just for the fun of it."

Brian chuckled softly, then turned back the hospital blanket and patted the exposed space on the bed next to him. Dave kicked his shoes off and bounced into the bed, then flung his arm around Brian's shoulder and pulled him in closer.

"It's just a simple procedure, right, Dave?"

"I wouldn't lie to you Brian. You know that— we're always honest with each other. It's not a routine procedure, but— especially for cancer— it's real close. They're even going to let me be in the operating room. So I can make sure nothing bad happens to my boy... and his boys… now try and get some sleep.

Brian rolled over and closed his eyes but he was too nervous to fall asleep and kept tossing and turning. Dave got out of the chair and sat down on the bed next to him. "Just try and close your eyes superstar," he whispered and then gently began running his left hand up and down Brian's back. Brian could smell Dave, his antiperspirant mixed with his sweat, a scent he'd known since he was eighteen. Dave's strong fingers felt good on his back and he felt his body relax as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

"Wake up, Mr. Kinney, it's time to get you ready." Violet, the short Filipina nurse was gently shaking his arm. Brian looked around for Dave, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Doctor Gold just went to scrub up," Violet informed him. "He'll be back any minute.

Violet continued to poke and prod at Brian, taking his blood pressure and his temperature. Dave came bounding back into the room, stood next to Brian and explained what was going on and why. The sound of his voice made Brian feel less nervous, even if he couldn't really concentrate on anything Dave was saying.

"We're going to need to prep you now," Violet said, and produced a razor and some shaving cream. "Would you like to help me, Doctor Gold? It'll go much faster that way?"

"Sure," Dave told her. "We lived together all through college. I've seen his junk before."

"So like I told you last night, we have to give you a Brazilian, Kinney." And suddenly Dave was holding his penis, running his fingers through his pubic hair, working with Violet to spread the skin on his balls and shave them, shaving the hair on his inner thigh. Dave looked up and winked at him. "It's going to itch like a motherfucker when it grows back. Try some lotion or baby powder."

Brian frowned and stared over at the sailboat print that hung on the wall.

"Goodbye Brian!" Dave was holding his ball sack and jiggling it at him. "It's been fun knowing you all these years," Gold continued in a comical high pitched voice. "But now it's time for me to go. Bye bye!"

And in spite of himself, in spite of what a cheese ball Dave was being, Brian laughed.

Dave was holding his hand when the anesthesiologist started the drip. "It's all going to go fine Bri," Dave said and then Brian was holding Dave's hand and Dave was wearing a surgical cap.

"I'm almost asleep," Brian mumbled.

"It's done," Dave announced. "The operation is over. Everything went very well, even better than we'd expected."

Brian was still trying to process how he could have been asleep that whole time without even realizing it.

"Let me get the nurse and see if we can get you some water or something." Dave squeezed his hand and Brian fell back asleep.

****************************************************************

"I brought you some magazines," Dave said, pulling _Details_ and _Adweek_ out of a bag. "And a banana so you don't get out of practice."

Brian smiled and shook his head at Dave. It had been two days since the operation. He was still a little out of it and the incision hurt like crazy whenever the painkillers wore off, which was every four hours.

"You know," Dave said, taking a bottle of water he'd bought for himself out of the bag, "I probably should have gotten you some Spanish magazines though, since that's what they'd have on Ibiza."

It took Brian a minute to process what Dave was saying.

"Stay out of my life, Dave."

"I called Justin's cell to give him instructions on follow-up care and he told me you were in Ibiza… and that you two weren't together anymore, that you'd thrown him the fuck out. I just mumbled something about being sorry, but dude— what the fuck?"

"What part of 'stay out of my life' do you not understand Gold."

"The part where we don't ever lie to each other Kinney…. I am so fucking pissed off at you right now. How many times do I have to tell you— you can be a fucking serial killer and I will stand by you, but just don't ever fucking lie to me."

"He's just going to leave me. He's 21. He doesn't need a cripple. It's better for him to end it now."

"A cripple? A cripple?" Dave shook his head back and forth. "You're fucking insane Kinney, you know that. You will be a little sore for another week and then you'll need to take it easy for maybe another month, and then you'll be good as new. You want to come to the hospital with me one day? I'll show you fucking cripples."

"I only have one ball."

"And that's why he's going to leave you? That's why you hurt the one other person in this world that you actually love and risk destroying the whole relationship. Because somehow you think having one ball makes you less attractive?"

"I'm glad you think I'm that shallow David. He's 21. The cancer is just going to remind him of the age difference, his future taking care of some sad old fag. Nobody likes to think about death."

"So you throw him out of your house with no explanation. That's fucking insane! No- you know what it is? It's the depression talking Brian. You get the blue meanies and you decide that some warped version of reality is the truth and then you make make decisions- horrible decisions- based on this worst-case scenario view of reality. Because the truth is you have no idea that he'll react like that. It's the least likely option. Maybe he won't give it a second thought. Or maybe playing nurse will make him realize how much more he loves you, now that he's seen you go through this. Or maybe he'll think you're so brave and strong for fighting through this you'll be like the Rager—"

"—Rage"

"Rage and you'll be his own personal superhero. Dude…" he stroked Brian's arm. "I'm not making this up. I see these different sorts of reactions all the time with patients. And I have yet to see anyone just walk away."

"You're a pediatrician, Gold. You see kids."

"I see plenty of very sick kids and adults, Brian. At the hospital and at the AIDS hospice. Or did you forget that I do that?"

Dave stood up and started to walk out of the room.

"Davey!"

The fear in Brian's voice startled Gold and he sprinted back to Brian's bedside. "What's the matter Kinney? Are you okay?"

"Don't leave. I'm- I didn't mean to lie to you. I'm sorry."

"Brian! You scared the shit out of me! I'm just going to the bathroom dude… I mean, did you think just cause I was mad at you that I'd just leave you here Brian!" he reached out and stroked Brian's hair. "Sometimes we fight, and that's okay because people who love each other sometimes fight. Brothers and sisters fight. But I'm not going anywhere, dude. Unlike Justin, you don't get to get rid of me that easily."

"I'm so scared" Brian said softly, turning his head away from Dave.

"I know you are bro. But you need to tell him everything. Let him know how sorry you are. And tell him you love him. This is a perfect opportunity for you to finally say it."

"When I get back."

"Why not now?"

"Because I need to time to think it over, figure out what I'm going to say. I promise I'll do it the day I get back to Pittsburgh, so I can see him right away."

"Fine. That's the day after tomorrow. You get discharged tomorrow, I got us a hotel room here to stay in that night and then we fly back to Pittsburgh the following morning."

"We?"

"You can't fly alone, Brian.. and that way I can get you settled back in, make sure you have everything you need… Now let me go pee."

And Gold was magic and Brian didn't deserve him.

****************************************

"So how are you doing?"

Brian and Dave were laying in Brian's bed, listening to the new Red Hot Chili Peppers CD. Dave loved the Chili Peppers and Brian indulged him by playing the disc Dave had brought along in his suitcase.

"How am I doing, Brian? I don't know… Nothing you don't already know. I work 90 hours a week, I go to parties in the Hills where there are dozens of hot looking big titted blonde girls who want to be actresses. I meet lots of hot moms at my office and some of them come on to me, but I don't do OPP. I have lots of acquaintances, people who think I'm their friend, but no new Brian Kinney. And my balls aren't diseased. That about sums things up."

"So you're still doing that thing where you substitute medicine for baseball and work all the time?"

"Maybe… that article didn't fucking help." The previous year, L.A. magazine had done a story on "LA's 10 Most Eligible Bachelors." Dave was number 4 on the list and he was convinced that girls only saw him as a money tree after that. "I just want someone… I want someone who is going to love me as hard as you do, dude. I mean from the moment I met you, I knew we were going to be best friends. And you had that with Justin. You fell in love with him— hard— the minute you laid eyes on him. I just want to feel that with some chick."

"It might happen if you didn't work all the time."

"The extra work I do is for the pediatric AIDS foundation. It's important."

"So instead instead of meeting women, you spend your free time doing good."

"Better than doing drugs."

"Touché, Doctor Superstar."

"Move to L.A., Kinney."

"What?"

"Move to L.A. It'll be awesome superstar. We could hang like this all the time. No winters to worry about. You'll move Justin out there with you— maybe he can get a job working for one of the studios. And you know gay guys are awesome chick magnets. Better than dogs even."

"I just started a business here, Gold. You'll have to get a puppy."

"I don't want a puppy. I want you."

Brian patted the bed next to him and Dave rolled himself across the width of the bed. "Hi," he said when he pulled up next to Brian.

"Hi." Brian placed his hand on the back of Dave's neck. "I'll come out there for vacation this year. We can spend a week or two together, just hanging."

Dave smiled broadly. "We can go running down on the beach every morning like we used to. Maybe head up to Santa Barbara for a few days. It'll be awesome."

"It will be," Brian said, pecking him on the lips and then rolling over so that he was spooning against Dave. He liked laying like that, the feel of Dave's muscular frame, his arm draped across Brian's chest, made him feel safe and secure.

"I want you to cut back on the drugs and the alcohol and the tricking, Brian. I know it makes you feel better, that it makes the blue meanies go away and that they're still out there all the time. But you're getting too old for that crap and there are other ways to scare them off. When you come out to LA we'll start working on that."

"Okay," Brian said softly and somehow the whole idea didn't sound as scary when Dave was around. "Good night, superstar. I love you"

And Dave hugged him tighter and whispered "I love you too Kinney. I'm glad you're okay" and Brian hugged Dave's arm to his body like a teddy bear and they fell asleep like that, Brian spooned up against Dave, only in the morning Dave was gone, all that was left was a note on the kitchen table:

_Early flight— didn't want to wake you._

_Love you superstar!_

_Dave_

_P.S. Pick a date to come out to LA so we can get it on our calendars_  
_P.P.S. Tell Justin about the surgery and move him back in here or I will come and remove the other one. Without anesthesia._

Brian started to crumple it up but then thought the better of it, smoothed it out and put it inside the secret folder he had where he kept clippings of articles about Dave and notes from Dave. He kissed the note, put it inside and began thinking up what he would say to Justin.

Four hours later, he knew. Justin was going to leave him. It was inevitable, no matter what Gold said. Better for him to get over Brian now, while it was easy. It would be better for both of them.

Gold would understand.


	10. Meet The Golds

Brian had met Dave's mother before, on his first trip to California. She was very friendly to him and he didn't really see why Dave thought she was so horrible— she'd spent a half hour telling him all about her amazing yoga teacher and how he and Dave really needed to come with her to a class.

"Just don't hold your breath waiting for the follow through," Dave had told him. "She'll promise you the world and deliver nothing."

And while Brian was skeptical, nothing further was ever said about the yoga classes and Brian noted that she seemed to forget things he'd told her— two days after a somewhat lengthy conversation about Pittsburgh, she'd introduced him to one of her friends as being from Philadelphia.

Which was why he wasn't completely freaked out when he ran into her one morning while he was upstairs getting some water, a task he could now handle without trepidation.

"Brian! David told me you were here!" She walked up and gave him a warm hug, smooching him on the cheek. "Come sit down with me at the breakfast nook while I have my coffee… " she said and guided him over to a stool. "So David told me that you just came out! I think that is so wonderful Brian! And he is being such a supportive friend, isn't he? He loves you Brian— he always tells me you're his 'brother from another mother'." she said, imitating Dave's deep voice, and then laughed as if this was the funniest thing in the world.

Barbara Gold was an exceedingly thin, exceedingly tan brunette with large expressive eyes and a large mouth that she outlined in bright red lipstick. Other than a little eyeliner, that was the only make-up she wore that morning— she must have been going to the gym, Brian surmised, as she was dressed in black bicycle shorts, a pink t-shirt and a black hoodie, three items he was sure his mother would never, could never wear.

"You know I love the gays," she continued. "I have so many gay friends, I am just drawn to them. I think gay people are so spiritual. Are you spiritual Brian?"

He shrugged, unsure of what she meant by that.

"I think you are. Look at those eyes— Carmen— _mira los ojos_ on this one," she said to the housekeeper who was busy stacking dishes in the dishwasher— "Those big beautiful hazel eyes— I think you have a very spiritual side Brian. And you know, I bet as you come out more and the more comfortable you become with being gay, you're going to see it. But those eyes— _hot cha cha_, right Carmen? —you are going to knock the boys dead. Keep this one away from Santa Monica Boulevard, David," she said, grabbing onto Brian's forearm and laughing as Dave came chugging up the stairs.

"I see the party started without me," Dave said, more than a little edge to his voice. He took the stool on the opposite side of Brian from his mother, his hand on Brian's shoulder as if to counter his mother, who was holding onto Brian's arm where it rested on the breakfast bar.

"Mr. Serious is up. What happened Davie, did the Dodgers lose again?"

Dave just smiled tightly at her.

"Carmen and I were just telling your friend here what spiritual eyes he has. He's going to have all the boys fighting over him."

"That's what I keep telling him. But when he's ready," Dave said and grabbed Brian in a combination headlock and hug.

"You two aren't?…" Barbara said, making an up and down waggling motion with her index and middle fingers.

"No mom. He's like my brother."

"Your brother from another mother, I know. But you you never know these days… So listen Brian," she said, turning her attention back to him. "I want to talk to you about something seriously. When you do go out there, you need to be very careful about who you go home with and always have a condom with you and use it! Because we would all be devastated if anything happened to you. And be picky! Not like your friend here, mister fucks-anything-that-moves— just like his father."

Brian felt Dave's grip on his neck tighten. "You should try staying around more," Brian said. "Then maybe we both could work on David." He surprised himself with that one— he wasn't sure he'd intended to say it out loud.

Barbara Gold looked confused for a second and then shook her head knowingly at Brian. "I see. He's been telling you what a terrible mother I am. How I'm never here and poor _bubbuleh_ had to eat dinner by himself and go to his baseball games all by himself. You see how terribly he lives, in such poverty, with his own fucking batting cage in the back yard."

"Speaking of poverty, or the lack thereof, Brian and I have to get going now— we're meeting dad for lunch."

"Well today's just your lucky day, isn't it Brian," she laughed, squeezing his arm. "But before you go, Brian, remember what I told you," she said, taking his hand in between hers. "Do not let anyone make you feel bad for who you are and who you love, and as big an asshole as he can sometimes be, David loves you very much— I have never seen him act this way with a friend before... And those eyes—" she shouted as Dave and Brian were heading back downstairs. "Be careful with those eyes! You are going to hypnotize every gay boy in Los Angeles with those eyes."

"Dude!" Dave practically shouted at Brian when they were back in his bedroom. "You are the most amazing guy ever Kinney! I can't believe you stood up for me like that!" Dave pulled him in for a big bear hug. "You're so awesome!"

"Well she was being mean to you. She deserved it."

"She sure as fuck did dude, but still…" Dave took Brian's head in his hands. A tear had formed in the corner of his eye and was trickling down his cheek. "You really are my brother-from-another-mother. My gay brother-from-another-mother, but that makes you even cooler." And then he noisily kissed Brian on the lips and pulled him in for yet another hug.

***************************************************************

Brian had to borrow a jacket from Dave for their lunch. It was too small on his lanky frame but Dave told him to just push up the sleeves, "it looks kind of cool like that."

"It's Armani!" Brian said, looking at the label on the inside pocket.

"Yeah, I guess," Dave shrugged. "It was my father's but I doubt he'll remember that. He's got enough clothes."

"Who makes yours, Dave?" he asked, as Dave slipped a blue blazer jacket over his Lehigh Baseball shirt.

Dave checked the inside pocket. "Hey! You should wear this one dude— it says Brioni. I think that's Italian for Brian!" They both laughed.

Brian looked at himself in the mirror and decided he looked pretty hot. He was wearing a pair of faded jeans, a tight black v-necked t-shirt that Dave had lent him and the taupe Armani blazer along with a pair of brown suede loafers that were also Dave's. He even had a pair of Dave's Wayfarer sunglasses on, "for the full L.A. douchebag effect," Dave told him.

They were meeting Dave's father, who worked as an agent for ITM, one of the largest talent agencies in Los Angeles, at the Ivy, a restaurant Brian had seen mentioned in the celebrity magazines Deb Novotny collected.

"I don't see any place to park," Brian said as they cruised down the street in front of the restaurant.

Dave looked confused. "You valet it."

"What?"

"Valet it, Kinney— it's an LA thing— you'll see."

"David!" the maitre d' said brightly when they walked in and Brian couldn't believe that the maitre d' at the Ivy actually knew Dave! "Your father is right back here."

Brian thought he saw two actors he recognized on the way to the table, but was struck when they got there by the presence of one he knew quite well. Dave's father, whom he'd never met before, looked like an older version of Dave, the family resemblance was quite telling. But sitting next to him was Rob Messina, a 26 year-old sitcom heartthrob who'd recently become a successful movie actor. Brian couldn't believe he was about to have lunch with him— Rob was someone he and Mikey had often fantasized about.

"So you must be the famous Brian Kinney," Dave's father said, shaking his hand warmly. "Ken Gold. And this is my good friend, Rob Messina. He was at the office today, so I asked him to join us for lunch. You know my boy Davey."

"— the baseball star," Rob said, as he shook Dave's hand.

"And this is his best friend from college, Brian Kinney."

"Are you on the baseball team too, Brian?" Rob asked. His eyes were as blue as they were in his pictures, a sharp contrast to his dark hair.

"Not me. Dave's the superstar."

"Well you look like an athlete too," Rob said and winked at Brian.

"So David talks about you all the time Brian. Every time I'm on the phone with him, it's Brian Kinney this and Brian Kinney that. You two are as thick as thieves, huh? I know Dave thinks you're pretty special."

"Well Dave's pretty special too," Brian said and everyone laughed and he hoped he wasn't sweating through Dave's Armani jacket, he was so nervous. Rob Messina! Michael would never believe him.

They ordered lunch and Dave's father even ordered them both a glass of wine, "just don't tell your mother!" he'd warned.

The conversation drifted, Rob was telling them about a new movie he was going to be starring in about air force pilots— Dave's father was his agent, it turned out— and then Dave started telling his father about school and baseball and they started talking about the Dodgers and their chances this year.

"I don't really follow baseball," Rob said to Brian once the Golds had gotten into it.

"Yeah, me either," Brian said, downing the rest of his wine. "I go to all the Lehigh games to see Dave play, but that's about it."

"Yeah, so what are you majoring in?"

"Communications. I want to go into advertising."

"A writer?" Rob's foot was touching Brian's. He must not realize it, Brian thought, and moved his own foot away.

"I write for the school newspaper," Brian said. "But what I really want to do is direct." God, he was such a dork. Why did he say that?

"Good one," Rob laughed. "I see you've been out here too long." His foot was back against Brian's and Rob's foot was definitely rubbing his foot now.

"So do you— do you, play any sports?" Brian was looking directly at Rob now and Rob was smiling. Brian started rubbing his foot back against Rob's.

"I like to run. I like to go on long, slow runs sometimes," Rob said, emphasizing the words "long" and "slow." "And then other times I like to go on short, hard ones."

"It's good to vary it up like that." Where had that come from. He could hardly breathe. Had the Golds heard this. No? They were still busy arguing about Tommy LaSorda.

Rob stood up and motioned for Brian to follow him. Brian could see that he was hard. His heart was pounding, his own cock rock hard, but he stood up and followed.

"We're just going to use the rest room." Rob told Ken. "You guys continue dissecting the Dodgers season."

The waiter brought out their appetizers and Dave realized that Rob and Brian hadn't yet returned from the bathroom. "I wonder what's taking them so long?" Dave grumbled.

His father flashed a half smile at him. "What do you think is taking them so long, Davey. Rob is back there _shtupping_ him."

Dave felt like someone had punched him in the gut and he felt his face redden. "Brian's fucking him then. He's a top, not a bottom," he managed to sputter.

"I don't really keep track of— wait Davey, you and Brian aren't…" he waggled his fingers.

"No we're not," Dave said angrily. "But right now, I wish we were. So I could see if you'd pimp out your own son just to keep one of your fucking clients happy."

"Get off your high horse Davey. Your mother told me about Brian, she said he was very good looking, had nice eyes. And you know Rob— he's a good guy, he's not going to hurt anyone. He can't go to bars or clubs to meet guys so he has to rely on his friends to find them for him. And Brian is exactly the type of guy he likes. Young and you know, not like a real sissy or anything. So what's the harm?"

Dave sighed loudly. "You could have at least asked me."

"Why? Are you in charge of Brian's dick now?"

"No. He's just.. he's just had a rough time of it since he came out. He was in a severe depression. Or did Mom leave that part out?"

"She'd mentioned it. Though she didn't make it sound so severe. But David— Rob is a nice guy and fucking Rob Messina might be just what Brian needs to make himself feel good."

"You'd better fucking hope so."

"Watch the mouth! I'm still your father— you don't curse at me."

Dave just sat and glared in silence, checking the left side of the restaurant for signs of Brian and Rob.

"You're a lot like your grandfather, you know that Davey. He was always saving wounded animals, wounded people. That's why he was such a good doctor."

"I know," Dave said, and his father laid a hand on his wrist. "I want to go to med school Dad. I want to become a doctor like grandpa."

His father reached across the table and grabbed Dave's cheeks in his hands. "I was hoping you would say that to me one day. You will make an amazing doctor, Davey. You have the gift... We'll get you into UCLA."

"I can get myself in."

"Don't be a schmuck. Everybody gets help somehow."

Brian and Rob returned from the mens room before Dave could answer. They were looking at each other and giggling.

"Sorry about that," Rob said. "There really was quite a line." And then he and Brian started giggling again.

The rest of the lunch went uneventfully, Brian and Rob rejoined the group conversation and Dave willed himself to be civil, to pretend he had no idea what had just transpired. He'd heard rumors about Rob Messina, but then again, he'd heard rumors about every major Hollywood actor.

And when they said goodbye it was very formal and Brian even said "nice to meet you Mr. Messina," to Rob.

They were about two blocks from the restaurant when Brian turned around to Dave. "Superstar! You are not going to believe what just happened!"

Dave forced himself to play dumb. "What dude? Did an agent try and sign you on your way to the bathroom?"

"No. I fucked Rob Messina in the bathroom!"

"Good one, dude." Dave kept his eyes on the road, he didn't want to give away that he already knew.

"No, Gold. For real! He told me I was the hottest guy he'd ever been with."

"Whoa! You're not playing me here, Kinney. Like you fucked him for real?"

"Yeah. When you and your dad started talking baseball, he started playing footsie with me under the table. And then he got up to go to the bathroom and he motioned for me to go with him— it was like a single bathroom and he locked the door and started kissing me."

"Wow. So then what?"

"So I figured I only have one chance to go down on Rob Messina— I used to jerk off thinking about him in high school when he was on "Class Clowns"… so I was sucking on it, thinking 'I can't believe I'm blowing Rob Messina' and then he pulls me up and kisses me again and gets down on his knees and starts blowing me."

"Was he any good?"

"Yeah. He was pretty damn good at it. Only then he starts fingering my hole and he says 'Brian— I want to fuck you.'"

"Wow."

"So I told him I don't get fucked and he says 'okay, so then you fuck me.'"

"Tell me you used a condom Kinney."

"Yeah, he had one— and some lube. And he leaned over the sink and I got behind him and I fucked him. He even came while I was inside him."

"You're a stud, Kinney!"

"I can't believe I fucked Rob Messina. I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and it'll all be a dream."

"No it's real dude. I'd heard rumors about the guy, but I figure unless he's sucking my dick, it's none of my business who he sleeps with, right?"

"Exactly."

"So you going to see him again?"

"I don't know Dave."

"Well I mean, you were the top, so doesn't that mean you have to ask him out?"

"It doesn't work like that Gold."

"Well you should. I can get his number from my Dad."

"You think he told your dad?"

"Sure. They're probably driving back and old Ken is getting the blow by blow about how Rob just got fucked by the hottest 21 year old he's ever laid eyes on."

"You're such a fucking Dave Gold!" Brian swatted him on the head playfully. "Now that I met your Dad, I know exactly where that comes from."

"Yeah, Ken's kind of the master of it."

"His son's not bad either."

"Yeah, well…" Dave mumbled, and swatted Brian back.

*************************************************************

"You know what else is cool," Dave said, when they were laying in den later, having spent the afternoon by the pool. "We just had a conversation before about you having gay butt sex and it wasn't weird or uncomfortable or anything. I mean that was probably helped by the fact that it was sort of surreal, but still…"

"I know. I was thinking about that too Davey. You're… you're…" he shook his head. "There just aren't any words to describe how amazing you are, superstar."

"Was that aimed at me or Rob Messina?"

"Dickhead."

"So it was aimed at his dick head. Interesting."

"Asshole"

"You just keep digging yourself in deeper, Kinney."

And they both dissolved into a giggling fit and Dave realized that it was time for them to head back to Lehigh.

*******************************************************************

"What did I tell you about those eyes, Brian?" Dave's mother said to them the next morning at breakfast. She was wearing a red silk bathrobe and hadn't yet put any make-up on, her dark hair slicked back into a ponytail. "Rob Messina!" she mouthed and then reached out and hugged Brian.

"Mom!" Dave huffed, making a motion across his neck for her to cut it out.

"Don't listen to Captain Grumpy over there. He thinks you're supposed to be embarrassed about sex."

"No. He thinks you're not supposed to discuss it with your mother!"

"I'm not his mother, David. Even if he is your 'brother from another mother'… so tell me Brian.. big?" She held out her hands to indicate the size. "Medium? Or small?"

Brian took her hands and positioned them. "About that size."

"Okay, that's respectable." She mock-elbowed him in the ribs. Brian blushed but Dave could see that he was smiling, that he liked the attention.

"I'm standing here in the kitchen of my house listening to my mother and my best friend discuss the dick size of the guy he fucked in the bathroom at the Ivy yesterday. Fuck my life."

"Brian!" she said. giving him a high five. "You know he usually doesn't bottom. He must have thought you were pretty special." Brian smiled even wider.

"I'm going to go take batting practice!" Dave shouted. "For the next three hours!"

"Another story for him to tell his therapist," his mother said to Brian as Dave marched down the stairs.

*******************************************************************

Dave's father called him from his cell phone the next morning.

"What are you doing Friday?"

"No plans yet, why?" Dave was hoping his father wanted to play golf. Or had tickets to the Dodgers game. His father always got the best seats.

"Rob wants to see Brian again."

"Oh. Okay…"

"So?"

"So… I don't know. I guess Brian would like that."

"Good. You're going to go over there around 11:30 in the morning. You go in the main entrance."

"Me? Why am I going?"

"Because if there are paparazzi there, it's just his agent's son and his friend going to drop off some papers for daddy."

"And then what? I just watch TV while Brian and Rob fuck their brains out?"

"I'll make sure you have a way to entertain yourself."

"Fine. Whatever."

They arrived at Rob Messina's house, which was up in the Truesdale section of Beverly Hills at exactly 11:37 on Friday morning, having circled the previous block a half dozen times because Dave did not want to get there too early.

Rob was waiting at the door for them, he was dressed in a pair of blue satin boxing trunks, no shirt on. He greeted Brian with a lingering kiss, made a bit difficult by the seven inch difference in height between the two men.

"This is Christy and Heather," Rob said, motioning to two buxom bikini clad blondes who were sitting in the living room. "Your dad said to tell you they were your entertainment."

Dave's eyes bulged, along with his cock, as the two girls motioned for him to sit between them. Brian watched in awe as one of them started kissing Dave while the other one reached around and started massaging his cock.

"I think we'll have more fun upstairs," Rob said and took Brian by the hand.

"There's not another one of you up there, is there?" Brian asked and Rob burst out laughing.

********************************************************************

"So you first, Kinney," Dave said, when they were back in his bedroom four hours later. They had both been too dazed to speak when they got into the car.

"No, you."

"I called it. You go first."

"It was amazing. We did everything—-"

"Everything?"

"Everything. I fucked him. He fucked me. He had all these toys…"

"Like Legos?"

"No, dickhead. Sex toys. Like anal beads and a double headed dildo. So what about you?"

"There were two of them. And they did everything… together. One was sucking my dick while the other was sucking my balls…. it was incredible"

"Wow."

"So tell me about the anal beads," Dave said. "What do they do?"

"They're different sizes. And you put them in your ass and then your partner slowly pulls them out, one by one. And Rob was sucking me off while he did that."

"Wow. One of the blondes was riding my cock. And the other one was below her, sucking on my balls and licking my asshole."

"She was rimming you? I didn't know girls did that."

"This one did. And then they switched places."

"Hot."

"You really let him fuck you?"

"On my back. I looked up and there was Rob Messina, the man of a million fantasies. I came without touching myself."

"You can do that?"

"Yeah. If you're turned on enough and he's hitting the right spots. It was the first time it ever happened for me though."

"Damn. Gay guys are lucky! So at one point I had them both on their backs, one on top of the other, and I'd fuck one and then pull out and fuck the other. And the one I wasn't fucking was fingering herself."

"I fucked him twice. In every position you can think of. He was so tight at one point I was on top of him and he just started wiggling his ass from side to side and it made me cum."

"Hot..." Dave let the word hang in the air. He looked at Brian and saw he was smiling giddily. "Brian," he sighed. "You know we have to go back to school, right? You're better now and we have to go back there, figure out how we're going to make up our classes and everything."

"I know."

"We'll figure something out. It's still April."

"You don't know that, Dave."

"Positive thinking dude.. but right now, Kinney, all I can think about is that if I don't go in the other room and jerk off, my dick is going to fucking explode."

"It's not like I haven't heard you jerk off before."

"Oh?"

"Every night freshman year when you thought I was asleep."

"Excuse me superstar, I think it was the other way around. You would beat off and you'd make that "ehh ehhh ehhh" sound when you thought I was asleep."

"I don't make that noise Gold."

"You so do make that noise, Kinney... Well, so long as we know what the other one sounds like, we don't have to move. Which is good because I am way too comfortable right here to even consider relocating." Dave reached over and grabbed some tissues from the box on his nightstand and handed some to Brian. "You're welcome to head into the other room if you'd prefer."

Brian smiled and stayed put.

He could feel the bed vibrating from Dave's movements, hear Dave, whose head was leaning against his, breathing heavily, but all he could think about was Rob Messina and the giant bedroom and the dark pubes below Rob's hard abs and Rob telling him how he was the sexiest guy he'd ever been with. He heard the sharp exhale that meant Dave had cum and he thought about the way Rob's cock felt inside of him and the smell of his sweat and the way he tasted when they kissed, and he shot, hard, into the tissue.

Dave was cracking up beside him.

"What?"

"Ehh ehhh ehhhh" You still do that."

"Well how about you. 'Hehhhhhhh'."

Dave laughed harder and then he was silent. "Dude. No one is ever going to believe us about this day. Not even a little bit. It'll have to be our superstar secret."

"I don't think I even believe it."

"It happened. You know what else happened?"

"What?"

"You got better. And you're gay and I'm not and we're still cool. And I think that's even more unbelievable."

"Superstar!"

And they laughed because they'd both said it at the same time and then Brian pulled the comforter up over them and he spooned himself up against Dave and Dave threw his arm around Brian and he hugged it tightly like a teddy bear so that when the blue meanies came later that night, like they always did after he'd fallen asleep, Dave could protect him and make them go away, make him stop thinking that he was a degenerate freak, make him not want to go back to the safe underwater cave.

Dave was magic. Dave could do anything.


	11. The Return Of The Prodigal Son

Readjusting to Lehigh was easier than Brian had expected. Dave had clearly briefed his people well and Brian was frequently assaulted by large breasted sorority girls, most of whom had fucked Dave at one point or another, coming up to him and hugging him as tightly as their breasts would allow, looking soulfully into his eyes and asking him how he was feeling and telling him they were always there if he needed to talk, telling him how he was the nicest guy they'd ever known and that they were sure he was going to make someone the best boyfriend ever and by the way if he ever wanted to go to New York or Philly to "hang out" they were "totally down for it."

Because clearly that was what gay guys did, they went to New York or Philly to "hang out."

And when the sorority girls were done, Dave's frat boys would take over, giving him big bear hugs, draping their arms around him and confiding how he was still the funniest guy they knew, how they didn't care if he liked "dudes" and how he had "such a big heart" that they knew he was going to find a cool dude to "hang with" and if the guy was ever mean to him, to tell them and they'd "fuck him up" for him.

He could hear Dave rehearsing the speeches with them, probably assigning them specific times to assault him, but the truth was most of them really meant it or at least part of it and he wondered how he'd gone from the biggest loser at Carrick High School to Fraternity Row's gay mascot.

The baseball coach had agreed to take Dave back— not that there was much question, at least if they'd wanted to win a game, and somehow Dave had managed to keep up with his classes while they were in Los Angeles, getting his assignments over the phone and somehow doing them while Brian was sleeping or in a semi-catatonic state.

Brian hadn't had that option and the fact that a semester of incompletes was likely going to result in the loss of his scholarship had thrown him into a panic and he'd retreated to his bed and refused to get up and he'd gotten into a fight with Dave when Dave tried to tell him not to worry about it, that he was sure it would all work out.

"You don't know that Gold! Stop pretending everything's going to be perfect! It doesn't work out for everyone else the way it works out for you!"

And Dave told him he needed to stop being so negative, but he wasn't being negative, he was being honest and he was sick of Gold and his positive thinking bullshit.

And then later that night, when Dave thought he was asleep, he heard him in the living room on the phone with his father, telling him he needed "to do something. Call them up and tell them you'll pay for it…. I don't know, then call it something else, like the Oro Foundation Scholarship for Ad Students… What? It means "gold" in Spanish, Dad, I just made it up, you can call it whatever you want… Yes! Of course he needs money for books and housing and stuff… I can give you that… from my bar mitzvah money, that's where… well thank you… yeah, well, he'd do it for me… he _is_ a good friend… I love you too, Dad... And thanks."

Sure enough the next day he got a call from the Financial Aid office telling him he'd been awarded the Oro Foundation Scholarship for Communications Majors and that it was actually quite a bit more generous than his previous scholarship and he was going to tell Dave that he didn't need his charity, but in fact he knew he did, knew the only way he'd ever escape, ever get better, was to get his degree and he remembered something his own father had told him in a rare moment of semi-sobriety: sometimes a man has to know when to accept help. And later, when he was a famous ad man, he'd pay Dave and his father back. With interest.

Dave was lying on his bed listening to some LA punk band and Brian bounced down on the bed and laid down next to him.

"So you were right, Dave," he said and explained about the scholarship.

"See Kinney, I told you things always work out."

"They always work out for you Davey."

"Well, maybe some of my magic is starting to rub off on you," and he grabbed Brian around the chest and pulled him in for a hug.

Brian was beaming and he turned his head to give Dave a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you bro. I'm really glad I decided to come back here…"

"Me too dude, I would not want to be here without my favorite rump wrangler."

"Breeder."

"Butt bandit."

"Tuna tonguer."

"You totally just made that one up, Kinney."

"You didn't call no made up names, Gold."

"Fucking guy gets a scholarship and now he's too smart for me," Dave said and and he pulled Brian towards him so they were spooning and they lay like that for a while, and Dave didn't let him go, even when their friends came in the room,

And everyone said how cool it was of Dave to be like that with Brian and how lucky Brian was to have a friend like him.

***************************************************************

The Gay Straight Alliance fundraiser was scheduled for the first week of May, just before finals, and when Dave found out about it, he shifted into high gear, somehow charming the dour committee of lesbians who ran the fundraiser into both letting him hire a DJ and into accepting help from Fraternity Row. And because he was Dave Gold and because (as Brian found out years later from one of the lesbians, a friend of Mel's) he'd contributed $1800 of his own money, the fund-raiser turned out to be the campus social event of the year, even if Brian, the five lesbians and two overweight gay guys were the only actual homosexuals there. At least the lesbians got to play foosball with the frat guys and Dave and his friends kept putting Brian up on their shoulders and parading around with him while everyone shouted "Kinney! Kinney! Kinney!" and Brian didn't know whether to keel over from embarrassment or cry for joy.

And Dave was magic. There was nothing he couldn't do.

*************************************************************************  
The Oro Foundation Scholarship also magically covered a semester of summer school, which Brian would need to keep himself on track for graduation. Staying at Lehigh for the summer meant no Chen-An-Go, and though Gold half-heartedly tried to convince him that he'd be able to work and attend summer school at Bates or Colby, he was eventually forced to admit that wasn't a viable option.

"I think you should go back to Pittsburgh for a week or two once the semester ends," Dave told Brian.

"Why? So I can relive the terrors of my childhood? I thought you were supposed to be my friend."

"You need to see your parents."

"I'm not telling my parents. Who I sleep with is none of their business."

"Fine. But don't you want to see Michael and his mom?"

"They can visit me here."

"I've never been to Pittsburgh."

"Consider yourself lucky."

"Come on, Bri. I'll come with you. You won't be alone in this. You've seen my world. Now I want to see yours."

"If you want to go see colorful natives, Gold, I hear New Guinea is lovely this time of year."

"Come on Kinney, this isn't even about you being gay or not. It's about a scared little geek from Chemistry Club who used to get his head shoved in the toilet coming back as a confident man and showing everyone— including his father— how much he's changed, showing them that no one can push Brian Fucking Kinney around any more."

"Especially if his cool stud roommate is with him, right Dave? You going to chase down the bullies and beat them up for me?"

"Dude, I'm not going to seem cool to those people. I'm going to seem like some spoiled Richie Rich college boy."

"You manage to fit in everywhere you go, Davey. People always like you. It's one of the things old Ken managed to teach you."

"Come on dude, I really want to meet your parents, see where you grew up."

"You can meet them at graduation… if my father manages to stay sober long enough to get here, that is."

"Come on Kinney."

"No!"

"Kinnneeeyyyyy…" Dave thrust out his lower lip and started making comically sad faces at Brian.

"Fuck off Gold."

"Kinneeyyyyyy…."

Brian started laughing despite the fact that Dave was being an unreasonable dick.

"Kinneeyyyyyy…." Dave was about six inches from his face now,

"Fuck off!"

Dave leaned in even closer and made sad eyes at Brian, staring right at him, never blinking.

"Okay. Fine. But don't tell me I didn't warn you."

Dave hugged him and kissed him on the top of the head.

"I'm so stoked we're gonna get to do this, superstar! Thank you!"

And when he thought about going back to Pittsburgh with Dave it didn't seem quite so scary. Dave made him stronger.

Dave was magic and why was he thanking Brian anyway?

Brian was the one who should be thanking him.


	12. Prince Charming

"You can still back out, dude." Dave had just pulled his Jeep into the driveway of the Kinneys 1950s ranch house.

"Stop Kinney. It's going to be awesome… so this is your house. This is where you grew up."

"This is it, Dave. There's not like a bigger house up the hill that we actually live in."

Dave smirked to acknowledge Brian's jibe. "It's a nice house, dude. You moved here when you were 14?"

"Yeah. We lived in an apartment before that only the neighborhood was getting pretty bad. My grandmother died and left my dad enough for a down payment and my mother put it someplace where he wouldn't be able to drink it up… I thought it was a palace when we moved here. My own room. A whole back yard… oops— looks like my dad must have taken down my private batting cage."

"You're a nut, Kinney. Come on, deep breath then let's go inside."

No one was at the door to greet them. No one responded when Brian announced "I'm home… Dave is with me!"

"Oh, so you've decided to grace us with your presence," his mother said when they walked into the kitchen, barely looking up from the potatoes she was peeling.

Brian just grunted at her.

"Oh hi, you must be Brian's sister Claire!" Dave said, his Dave Gold smile at level 10. "Brian talks about you all the time."

"I'm not his sister, I'm his mother," Mrs. Kinney said. "You're that Jewish boy from California he rooms with. The baseball player."

"Yes! Of course! We met that first day of school freshman year. How could I forget? It's so nice to see you again Mrs. Kinney. Thank you so much for letting me stay here. I hope it's not too much of an imposition for you."

"I'm sure it's nowhere near as nice as what you're used to, but so long as you stay in Brian's room and keep out of the way, you'll be fine."

"What are you cooking with those potatoes? Brian's always telling me how much he misses your cooking."

"Does he now?" She looked up at Dave and made eye contact for the first time since they'd entered the kitchen, but immediately looked back down when he flashed his Dave Gold smile.

"He sure does. Now is there anything we can help you with? It'd be great to see a real pro in action. Especially because next year we're going to have to start cooking for ourselves."

"You can help me by getting out of the kitchen and stop trying to flatter me," she said, frowning. "Put your bags in your room Brian and then go find something to do. You know Saturdays are my cleaning day."

"Well where's Dad? Out buying the cake for my welcome home party?"

"I suspect he's down at the Union Hall. Though he said he was helping Jerry Flynn put up new shelves."

"Why don't we help your mom clean Brian? It's the least we can do for letting us stay here."

Why didn't Gold ever know when to quit, Brian thought.

"I'm great with a vacuum," Gold continued. "And Brian and I can help you move the furniture so we can vacuum underneath it."

"Well that would actually be very nice," Mrs. Kinney said, a faint smile crossing her lips. "Why don't you boys take care of the bedrooms and the living room and I'll tackle the bathroom and the kitchen.

"Great! I'll go get our bags out of the car, Brian and you can get the supplies ready."

Supplies? What did Gold think, they had a cleaning supply closet?

"What a nice young man," his mother said, looking out towards the front door with an expression she usually reserved for handsome new priests. "You should try and learn from him. They're good with money."

***************************************************************************  
"Well since you're great with vacuums Davey, I thought you could do the honors," Brian said, pushing the beige Eureka upright vacuum with it's cracked, peeling case, towards his roommate.

"How does it work?" Dave asked, looking the machine up and down.

"I think you have to talk to it in Spanish, dude."

Dave started to move towards the vacuum, then caught himself and started cracking up.

"Touché superstar. That was very good. Now just show me how it works, okay?"

"Davey… You've never really used a vacuum cleaner before?"

"You've been to my house Kinney. The maid to occupant ratio is pretty high."

"Well you see this thing," Brian said, unwrapping the cord from the side of the vacuum. "This is called the plug. It goes into this thing which is called the outlet… and then you step on this to make it go back, and then this magic button here turns it on." The vacuum sprung to life and the bag inflated.

"So how does it pick up dirt?" Dave shouted above the racket.

"You have to push it back and forth, like this" Brian demonstrated. "Now you try, Davey."

Dave pushed the vacuum across the pale pink living room carpet and watched the potato chip crumbs disappear into its craw. "I'm on it!" he shouted. "Now help me move this couch."

*********************************************************************  
"Brian and his friend David helped me with the vacuuming today," Mrs. Kinney announced over dinner, her gaze directly on Claire. "It's nice to see your brother associating with the right sort of people for a change."

"She doesn't like my new boyfriend Kevin," Claire announced to Brian. "She thinks he's not good enough for me."

"He's an ex-convict with long hair and no job," Mrs. Kinney hissed. "I think you can do better than that."

"He's not an ex-convict, Ma! He did 30 days for disturbing the peace because he and his friends got drunk one night and pissed off some fat cop."

Mrs. Kinney frowned. "He's still a hoodlum."

"What do you like about him?" Dave asked.

God bless Gold, Brian thought. He just jumped right in there.

"What?"

"I asked what you liked about him? You know, is he funny? Romantic? Mysterious? Why do you like him so much?"

"I like him cause he doesn't give me crap or ask me stupid questions." She looked right at Gold for that one. "And he thinks I'm sexy."

"Premarital sex is a sin!" Mrs. Kinney announced.

"—Sonny Boy! You're home!" Mr. Kinney came careening through the front door and stumbled into the kitchen. "My goodness! You've decided to grace us with your presence, have you? And who's this with you?"

"Dave Gold, Brian's roommate." Dave stood up to shake his hand. "Nice to see you again, sir."

"These rich kids you meet at college, they all have such nice manners. That's what money buys you, sonny boy— nice manners."

"I think Mr. Kinney isn't feeling well and needs to lie down," Mrs. Kinney said through clenched teeth.

"The warden says I need to lie down," Mr. Kinney slurred. "So we'll need to continue our conversation tomorrow then, young men." He gave them a wobbly salute and careened off down the hallway.

The rest of the dinner was eaten in silence. Even Dave didn't try to make conversation.

**********************************************************  
Brian's bedroom had a single twin bed in it that he insisted Dave take— he would sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag.

"We can try and share it, Bri. We've slept together in tighter spaces"

Brian got up and secured the lock on his bedroom door, shut the lights off and then squeezed in the bed next to Dave, lying buttock to buttock.

"I'm sorry about my dad, dude." he whispered. "I warned you though."

"I know you did… and who knows, maybe tomorrow night he'll bring two blondes from the bar for us."

"I still can't believe that happened, Dave. It's like some Penthouse fantasy come to life."

"Same dude. I mean nothing like that ever happened to me before. Not even almost."

"You remember what happened after?"

"You mean jerking off together?"

"Yeah, it was kind of intense," Brian said. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't weirded out about it."

"'Cause you're gay?"

"Yeah."

"It would've been even weirder if you weren't gay." They were whispering and Brian could feel Dave's breath on him when he spoke, feel the warmth of his body next to him.

"I guess."

"But yeah," Dave sighed. "I was pretty weirded out at first. But then I realized how cool it was, that you were thinking about gay stuff and I was thinking about straight stuff and we were having this total middle school experience, and yeah, I guess it was kinda gay, but we were both cool with it and it made me realize I wasn't going to lose you, that somehow you and I had navigated a way through this and we could still be close as always."

"Cool.… so would you ever want to do it again?"

I don't know dude, why?"

"Because I'm really horny right now."

"Well I am too, but we can each take care of that in the bathroom, bro."

"It was pretty hot though, seeing you like that."

"The whole day was pretty hot. Pretty unbelievable."

"I'm so horny right now."

"Me too Kinney."

"I can give you blow job if you want, Davey." He rubbed Dave's flat belly with his hand.

"What?"

"A blow job. I like giving them, you like getting them, so what's the big deal? You may as well benefit from the fact that your buddy is an awesome cocksucker."

"What the fuck are you talking about Kinney? I don't believe you! I mean you're like my fucking brother Brian— I don't want to have sex with you. Do you know how fucking weird that would be?"

Brian looked up, tears streaming down his face. "I fucked everything up again, didn't I. I'm just a stupid fag." He started rocking back and forth, banging at his head with his fists.

"No you're not Kinney."

"Yes. Now just go! Get out of here! I know you don't want to sleep in the same room as some stupid fag who wants to suck your cock."

Dave scooted over to Brian and tried to take him in his arms, but Brian pushed him away. "You're not a stupid fag, Kinney. You're my best friend. I'm not going anywhere."

"Leave me alone. I'm disgusting."

"You're not disgusting, Brian. You're beautiful." Dave reached out again and this time Brian accepted his embrace, falling into his arms and crying against Dave's neck.

"Shhhh, shhhhh, it's okay. We're still working this all out. I love you Brian. You're the only family I've really got. And we're going to figure this all out together. But tonight I want you to know that you're not a disgusting faggot. That you are every bit as worthy as any straight guy. And that if anyone ever calls you that, even thinks of you like that, I will rip their fucking head off."

Brian buried his face deeper into Dave's neck. It was no use. That's all he was: a freak.

"You okay buddy, you're shaking?" Brian lifted his head up and started to speak, started to tell Dave he was just scared, but no words would come out. He looked over at Dave, and even in the darkness Dave could see the pain in his eyes, so he wrapped the blanket around them and began gently rocking Brian, and then, in a low whisper, he began singing "You And Me Against The World" and Brian felt safe and laid his head on Dave's chest and sank slowly into a a deep sleep.

"We're gonna forget everything about last night, Bri. Okay? It never happened. And you're still my number one superstar. But I need you to promise me one thing."

Brian hung his head. "I won't make any more passes at you, Gold."

"No, I know you won't— and for what it's worth, it's kind of flattering. No… I just don't want you to think you have to be anyone's blow job bitch. You know, girls who do that, no one respects them much and well, they don't respect themselves much either. And you are a superstar and you deserve better. Guys suck your dick. Guys like Rob Messina, right? And you fuck them—with a condom on or I'm going to rip your dick right off your body—- cause you're the alpha dog, they take it from you, right?"

"I guess."

"Not 'I guess'— I know!"

"Okay, coach!"

"I'm serious Brian. A guy like you… you could be King of the Queers."

"You're a nut," Brian said and playfully poked Dave in the ribs.

"Dude, you'd have the most bitchin' crown with all sorts of tastefully designed jewels on it and stuff."

"Nut."

"You're a nut… and I'm fucking starving. Let's go down to that Liberty Diner and get some breakfast— unless you want to go to church with your mom."

"It's Friday Gold. No one goes to church on Friday."

"I thought you said she went every day."

"I'm royalty. We exaggerate."

And they both laughed and went in search of their shoes and socks.

"So Michael's mom is kind of, well… out there," Brian said as Dave parked the Jeep in front of the diner. "But she's really cool."

Dave was about to ask "how so?" when a woman who looked like the love child of Raggedy Ann and Bozo the Clown came barreling out of the diner, arms akimbo, and grabbed Brian in a big bear hug.

"Brian Kinney! My great big college boy! Let me look at you! Ohmygawd! Handsome as ever! Oh! It's so good to see you again! Michael is going to be so thrilled to see you too!" Brian's face was covered with red lipstick marks when she finally let him go, but Dave was thrilled to see that he was beaming.

"And you," she said, turning to Dave. "You must be the famous David Gold." She gave Dave a once over with her eyes. "I didn't think anyone could make Brian Kinney look plain," she said to no one in particular. "But Mikey was right— he's like a movie star."

Dave cupped his hand over his eyes and did an exaggerated pantomime of looking around him. "I don't see that guy, but you must be Debra Novotny, the Queen of Liberty Avenue," he said and then flashed the full Dave Gold smile at her. "Brian talks about you all the time and well, you deserve all the credit for how successful Brian's become. You're the one who taught him to believe in himself. And that's an incredible gift." Dave took her hand and kissed it and Deb began giggling like a schoolgirl.

"Brian!" Michael came racing across the street, oblivious to the flow of traffic. "Brian, you're back!"

"You knew that, Mikey, I talked to you last night," Brian said, as Mikey smothered his face with kisses.

"And Gold!" Michael stared at Dave in awe, and for a second Brian was sure he was going to kneel down in front of Dave and kiss his feet. "You brought Gold with you. Ma— this is Dave Gold. From California!"

Deb just giggled and smiled broadly.

"Let's go inside and eat," Dave finally said once he realized Brian was also frozen in place. "I am starving."

"This is David Gold," Deb said, dragging Vic across the diner. "He's Brian's roommate at college and he's the one who bought Michael the ticket to go out to California. This is my brother Vic. Michael's uncle."

"So nice to meet you, Dave said, and Brian could swear there was a cartoon sound effect "zing" when he smiled. "You're the one who took Mikey to Hershey Park when he was younger?"

"Yes," Vic stammered. "That was me. You see his father died in Vietnam and so Michael just had me and Deb."

"He was telling me all about it when he was out in California— the trip to Hershey Park, that is. It's amazing how little things can mean so much." And he took Vic's hand with both of his and shook it effusively, while Vic just blinked and stammered.

"Three Liberty specials, one with avocado," Deb said, placing the heaping platters in front of Brian, Mike and Dave. "Can I ask you something David?"

"Of course! I'm going to start eating though. This food looks so delicious. And thank you for the avocado. That was such a nice touch."

"Ohh!" Deb said and giggled again. Brian had never heard her giggle. Dave was magic.

"Well Vic and I were just wondering if you were any relation to superstar agent Ken Gold?"

"Superstar agent Ken Gold!" Dave caught Brian's eye and winked and Brian grinned back at him. "Well, yeah, that would actually be my father. Though I have to say I've never heard him referred to that way."

"Ohmygawd!" Deb squealed. "So do you get to meet all these celebrities!" She shoved a copy of People magazine in front of him that had a picture of his father at an Oscar party with Cher, Tom Hanks and Rob Messina.

"Well he's Rob Messina's agent, so I've met him."

"He is so gorgeous!" Deb announced to the table. "Those blue eyes. That smile. What a dreamboat."

"Brian is a big Rob Messina fan," Dave announced, arching his eyebrows at Brian, who got a sly grin on his face.

Michael watched the interaction and looked panicked. "Hey, I'm a big Rob Messina fan too. I had a crush on him back when he was on "Class Clown." Remember Brian?"

"I certainly do" Brian said and looked over Michael's head to wink at Dave.

"My dad discovered him," Dave said. "He got him the job on "Class Clowns."

The Novotnys looked at Dave in awe, or, as Mel was to tell Justin many years later, "In their minds, Brian is a demigod, and Dave is Zeus himself, come down from Olympus to anoint him."

"Can I talk to you about something serious, Deb," Dave asked, corralling Deb in the kitchen of the diner while Brian and Michael caught up in the booth.

"Of course… is everything alright with Brian?"

"Maybe…" Dave sighed. "I don't know what you know, but when Brian got to Lehigh, he decided to give being straight a shot and—-"

"I know all that. Mikey filled me in. Poor kid— you can't just change who you are."

"Understood. But, well, he hasn't had an easy time coming out again. I think…. I think he finally came into his own those first two years at school. The rise in his confidence was nothing sort of astounding. And he's somehow decided that being gay takes that all away from him. It's… it's not the sort of thing you can just talk someone out of either. He's got to figure it out for himself."

"It's been tough on him. Those fucking parents of his don't make things easy either."

"He's told me about them… but seeing it first hand. Poor guy," Dave shook his head sadly. "What I wanted to talk to you about though is that this is going to be his first summer alone— without me, without Michael and his first summer as an out gay man. So please, keep an eye on him for me. Send Michael out to Lehigh to see him a lot— I'll give you money now for the air fare— and you don't get to say 'no' to me on that…Brian… he means the world to me. I just want him to be happy."

"Listen you…" Deb's eyes were glistening. "Michael told me what you did for him. With the charts and taking months off from school. You were sent from God to protect that boy and to love him. That's what I believe." She dabbed at her eyes with a big polka dot handkerchief. "We will watch out over Brian. We'll make sure he's okay. Don't you worry."

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

Deb pulled him in for a hug. "The muscles on this one. You really are our Prince Charming. You take your shirt off in Babylon, the boys'll be all over you… though I gather that's not your thing."

"No. But PFLAG is. I want to buy a button from you."

"Here," she said, unpinning the button from her own shirt. "It's on me. I've got a hundred of these back at the house."

"So Deb thinks I'm an angel sent by God to look after you," Dave said as he and Brian got back in the Jeep.

"You are… She keeps calling you 'Prince Charming'… and you're that too."

"Well then you're my trusty steed, Kinney."

"That means you get to ride me."

"What did I tell you— you ride them!'

"Yes coach…Tell me something Dave. How.. how do you do that thing you do where you manage to sound like a forty year old man whenever you talk to adults?"

"What are you talking about Kinney?"

"When you talk to professors, to my parents, to Deb and Vic… this slick Dave comes out. Your whole demeanor changes. Like you were their equal or even their superior. Not like some dumb kid."

"My father's an agent, Bri. I've been trotted out in front of adults my whole life. Actors, lawyers, business managers, sports heroes. So I had to learn. And all I did was mimic my dad. I can teach you how to do it— it's all about getting other people to like you, to always talk about them and not you… besides… I was just a prop for him anyway. Come to Davey's baseball game and see how good he is. How mature and polite. And it was all cool if I played my part okay. But one time… he had some client at one of my games. I was in 8th grade, playing up on high school varsity. And the ball made a bad hop and I misjudged it and it went over my shoulder. And he told me that I did it on purpose to embarrass him. That I'd planned it with my mother. Yelled at me in front of everyone." Dave winced at the memory and blinked hard. "So you see superstar… you're my guardian angel. You think everything I do is great."

Brian put his hand on top of Dave's on the stick shift and squeezed it.

"So you played varsity right away, that's really somthin', don't you think sonny boy?" Jack Kinney had managed to stay sober and was joining them for dinner. He'd grilled steaks in honor of Dave's stay.

Brian watched Dave work his parents. It really was all about the "you." "You did a wonderful job with these." "What sort of marinade do you use?" "Where would you like to go in California?" "What sorts of things do you like to do on vacation?" He had them eating out of his hands.

"Do you follow Lehigh baseball, Mr. Kinney?"

"No. Just the Pirates. But Brian tells me you're the best player on the team. Your dad must be real proud of you. Is he a baseball player?"

"He played in high school."

"So he knows the game. He must just be real proud of you, huh?"

"You must be very proud of Brian— he's going to be the executive editor of the school paper next year."

"Yeah,' he said, shaking his head dismissively, "that stuff's nice, but an All-American baseball player, now that's really somethin' to be proud of."

"But I'm not your son," Dave said, fixing his eyes on Jack Kinney. "He is."

"Why don't you have some more fries, Jack," Mrs. Kinney said nervously, spooning some onto her husband's plate, glancing back and forth between Dave and the task at hand.

Dave's eyes never left Jack Kinney.

"So that's great, sonny boy," Jack finally stammered. "That must be a big deal, being editor."

"—Executive editor," Dave corrected.

"Executive editor. What is it that you write about? Politics."

Brian was waiting for Dave to answer for him and it took him a minute to realize the responsibility for answering the question was on him. "Sometimes about politics—" he stammered. "Mostly about culture. Pop culture. What's going on in the world around us." He could tell his parents and Claire had no idea what he was talking about. "Funny observations about commercials you see on TV, songs you hear on the radio…"

"Brian writes a column called 'Kinnections'," Dave explained. "Everybody rushes to get the paper when it comes out on Tuesdays so they can read it."

"His own column," Mrs. Kinney said skeptically. "He's never seen fit to tell us about it."

"Well, have you ever given him a reason to want to? Why don't you tell your parents about the column, Bri," he said, turning his attention to a nervous looking Brian. "How it got started and all."

"I used to tell jokes at the newspaper office. People there actually think I'm funny. And so one day, when I was a freshman, the editor said why don't you write this all down, it would make a great column. And now it's the most popular thing in the school paper."

"It's been the most popular thing in the school paper since the first column came out," Dave added.

"Yeah, with a bunch of fags and geeks," Claire sneered.

"All the athletes really like it, Claire," Dave said, fixing her with the same cold glare he'd given her father. "We all read it. The cheerleaders too. Your brother is very talented."

"Well we're all very proud of you, Brian," his mother said. "I just wish you'd tell us about these things."

Dave and Brian has just stepped into Brian's bedroom when they heard the cabinet door slam in the kitchen.

"He has no right to talk to me that way in my own house, Joanie. No right. Talk to me like I'm some worthless lowlife, not even good enough to wipe his shoes."

"Now Jack…"

Brian shut the door to his room and threw his arms around Dave's neck. "And David took his slingshot and slew the giant." And he looked up at Dave, tears welling in his big hazel eyes.

Dave gripped Brian's shoulders. "He's only a giant if you let him be, superstar. He can only be a giant if you let him."

"We're going to Babylon, Gold. Not brunch at the country club." Brian looked over Dave's outfit. He was wearing a brown "Lehigh Baseball" golf shirt and light tan khakis.

"Most of my clothes are on their way to Chen-An-Go, dude. These are the only nice clothes I have here."

"Try this then," Brian handed Dave a denim shirt from his closet.

"What happened to the sleeves, Bri?" Dave said, checking himself out in the full length mirror on the back of Brian's closet door

"I cut them off. You look hot, Dave."

"I look ridiculous… here," he said, rummaging through his duffel bag, "what about this?" He pulled out a red Polo shirt that had obviously seen better days— the red was now more a dark pink. "It's from high school, I don't know why I still kept it— it's way too small. But for tonight…" Dave slipped the shirt on. It hugged his chest tightly, showed off his pecs and his large biceps, and was even short enough to show off his abs.

"Good. Now lose the golf pants for some jeans and you're set. Why don't you borrow my black ones?"

"Because there's no way they'd fit, Kinney. You have a smaller waist than most girls." Dave pulled a pair of pair of Diesel jeans out of his bag. "These are from high school too.. there's a hole in the knee, but at least they fit me."

"That's good," Brian said. "There's a hole in the crotch too. Perfect."

"Buddy chat?"

"Sure," Brian said, sinking down on the bed. Dave sat down next to him and flung his arm over Brian's shoulder.

"I've never been to a gay bar before Brian. I'm kind of nervous because you make this place Babylon sound like it's a giant orgy and I don't know how I'd react if some guy just shoved his dick in my face."

"Is it a big dick we're talking about?"

"Kinney…."

"Look, it's not like that Dave. That's only in the back room and I'm not going to make you go there. The main room is like any other disco."

"But you said that sometimes guys fuck right on the dance floor."

"It's mostly blow jobs."

"Well that makes me feel a lot better… I mean… I mean— well what if the guy has AIDS and he like shoots his load all over the place?"

"Jerry Falwell says it only infects godless homosexuals so you should be safe."

"Fuck you, Kinney, I'm serious. Aren't you scared? I'm fucking terrified for you! I don't want you to die!"

"Davey, calm down. I always play safe."

"It's just so damn random. One rip.. one drop gets in your eye… you promise me you're always going to be the top, right?"

"Yes, coach, I promise."

"It's not funny, Kinney. If anything ever happened to you.." Dave was welling up and he grabbed Brian around the shoulders and hugged him in tight.

"Don't worry Superstar. I promise I'll play safe."

"You fucking better, Kinney. You fucking better."

"No taxi tonight, huh boys," Deb called after them as Michael and Brian piled into Dave's Jeep. "Prince Charming comes with his own chariot."

"So guess what Brian did when he was out in LA last time?" Dave said to Mikey as they pulled away from the Novotny's house. "Or should I say who he did?"

Michael shrugged. "I give up."

"Rob Messina." Dave high-fived Brian across the front seat.

"Is this one of those college jokes that I don't get?"

"No, Mikey, it's for real. Your buddy here is a major, number one gay stud. He fucked Rob Messina."

"Really!" Mikey's eyes lit up.

"Tell him dude."

"It really happened Mikey. Dave's father is his agent. We had lunch with them one day—"

"You had lunch with Rob Messina AND Gold's father. In a restaurant! Oh my god! That is so cool!"

"Did you miss the part about them fucking Michael? That's a lot more impressive than eating a salad together."

"He didn't really fuck him. Rob Messina is dating Julie Nichols."

"Tell him Kinney."

Brian related the story to Michael who punctuated it with a rapid series of "oh my Gods!"

"I told you that you were the best looking guy in Pittsburgh, Brian. You are Brian Fucking Kinney and no one can stop you. Rob Messina! Holy fucking cow!" He gave Brian a high five.

"And Brian Fucking Kinney is always on top!" Dave shouted, shooting Brian a sideways glance. "Especially if he knows what's good for him."

Brian hadn't been back to Liberty Avenue in over three years. The last time he'd been there, he was just a scared high school kid, happy to suck cock and let the older guys who picked him up dictate the sexual conversation.

But not tonight. Dave told him he was was "Brian Fucking Kinney" and he wasn't going to be anyone's "blow job bitch." He'd fucked Rob Messina. So fuck these Pittsburgh losers.

Only somehow all those lines all sounded far more convincing when Dave said them.

The line wasn't that long and so he, Dave and Michael were soon inside the club, listening to the old thumpa thumpa. Dave bought them two rounds of shots which they quickly downed and then a beer for each of them.

"Why are you wearing sunglasses, Dave?" Mikey asked him.

"He's afraid someone might recognize him, you know, the paparazzi," Brian teased.

"Like I'd know any of these people."

Brian looked at him and put his hands around Dave's neck and started to dance. "You're fucking insane Gold, you know that."

"What?"

"You're wearing those glasses so that a stray drop of semen doesn't leap into your eye and give you the AIDS virus."

"I have an extra pair for you if you want. For when you go into that back room."

Brian danced closer to Dave and leaned down and whispered in his ear "No one has ever gotten AIDS from getting hit in the eye with cum, Gold. That's a story straight people tell to make us seem even more like freaks."

"You're not a freak, Kinney," Dave said, pushing the glasses up onto his head.

Michael pulled them both out onto the dance floor. "It's like a freaking locker room out here," Dave muttered. "I've never seen so many sweaty guys in one place."

"Just dance, Gold," Brian told him. "You don't have to worry about picking up any of them."

Lots of guys were looking at Dave, Brian noticed, trying to make eye contact with him.

"Try moving your hips Kinney," Dave said, grabbing Brian by the waist and trying to sway him to the music. "Pretend you're fucking whoever you're dancing with."

The resulting jerky movement were even less graceful that whatever Brian had been doing previously, and Dave decided to give up.

A tall, pumped up, shirtless black man started dancing behind Dave and then moved in very close. Dave grabbed onto Brian and pulled him in tight. The guy put a hand on both of them and started grinding into the space between them.

"Sorry dude," Dave shouted at him. "I'm with him tonight. He's all I want."

"It's more fun with three," the guy countered.

"Not tonight dude,"

The guy grabbed Dave's hand and pulled it towards his crotch. Dave pulled his hand away as if he'd been singed.

"I said 'no'. Now fuck off and leave us the fuck alone."

The guy looked Brian up and down. "You're throwing me over for this skinny little bitch."

"This skinny little bitch is the best topper in all of Pittsburgh. He can go all day too. Like an Eveready Bunny. Hung too!" and Dave held out his hands to show how big Brian's cock allegedly was. "He's all the man I need." And then Dave pulled Brian in for a long tongue-free kiss.

People had turned to stare at them and the big bald guy just said "Ahh. True love. It really is blind." He snapped his fingers at them twice and walked away.

"So does shit like that happen a lot here," Dave asked Mike and Brian when they were back at the bar.

"Often enough."

"So what would you have done if I wasn't here?"

"Gone into the back room with him and gotten split open like a coconut," Mikey said.

"And you?" Dave looked at Brian who didn't pick his eyes up from the floor.

"I don't know. He's not my type."

"You tell guys like that no, Kinney. I bet he has AIDS."

"Calm down with the AIDS shit already, David. What the fuck is with you?" Brian spun away and walked over to Michael, who was standing on the edge of the dance floor.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?" A modelish looking blonde man sidled up alongside Dave. He was wearing a too-small white t-shirt and too-tight jeans.

"Do you watch a lot of porn?"

"Sometimes," the blonde volunteered.

"You ever hear of Dick Stroker?"

"I think so."

"Yeah? I'm not him." Dave turned around and smiled. "I'm Harris. And I don't think we've ever met before."

"Bill," the blonde said, shaking Dave's hand. "You're funny Harris."

"I try."

"So did you see the Pirates game tonight?" Bill asked.

"They lost. Been a rough August for them."

"Yeah. The heat's been tough on them."

"So you really a Pirates fan, Bill or you just figure talking baseball in a gay bar helps your rap?"

"A little of both." He sidled up closer to Dave. "So you here by yourself?"

"Nope. Here with my boyfriend." He pointed to Brian, who was standing on the side of the dance floor, talking to Michael. "The tall skinny one."

"He's hot," Bill said. "You must love tapping that tight ass. Not much room for anything else in there."

"Nah, bro. He fucks me. Guy has an incredible dick and he just knows how to hit all the right spots. Can make me cum without touching myself like three times in a row."

"He doesn't look like a top."

"Those are the ones that surprise you."

"You guys ever play around?"

"That's why we're here tonight. If we wanted to fuck each other, we'd just have stayed home."

"Cool," Bill said, placing his hand on Brian's arm. "I could use a good pounding from a stud like you tonight. Sounds like you need to get back in the saddle again too."

"Appreciate the compliment, but that's not how we play. I find guys for him to fuck. So if you're down for it, it'll be the best fuck you've had since the Pirates last won the pennant.

"I don't usually give it up for skinny guys."

"I don't either. But my boy is worth giving it up for."

"He's cute," Bill said. "Why don't you make it happen."

"Okay… but do me a favor. Pretend you want to fuck him first. Make him convince you you want his cock. Hearing him tell me about that really gets me going."

"Sure. You want me to make him work for it."

"Exactly."

"So I did what you said, Gold," Brian said once he'd returned from the back room.

Dave knew he was telling the truth because he'd followed him back there, watching from a distance. Bill had spotted him while he was impaled on Brian's penis, but that only made the whole set-up more believable. Dave was shocked by the back room- and he had only stepped a few feet inside. Still, the floor was sticky, no doubt from semen, there were used condoms every few feet and it reeked. He couldn't think of a less desirable place to fuck someone. "I think the AIDS virus gets its mail delivered back there," he told Brian on the way home.

Brian related how the guy had assumed he'd be the bottom and had told him to get down and suck. "He was hot, but I told him, no, I don't get sucked. You suck me."

"Go Kinney!"

"And then he said he wanted to fuck me and I told him no, I don't get fucked. So he started telling me that a skinny guy like me must have such as incredibly tight ass and it would be a shame to let it go to waste. So I just said 'do you want me to fuck your brains out or not?' And then he turned around for me."

"Of course he did. He knew what was good for him."

"I fucked him so good he came without touching himself," Brian said, thrusting his hips back and forth in a sort of victory dance.

The mind is a curious thing, Dave thought to himself and then grabbed Brian in a hug, bought him a shot to celebrate and dragged him out to the dance floor.

"So now you see what it's like," Brian whispered to Dave when they were home and in bed. "Why I don't fit in there."

"There's got to be someone for you, dude. All it takes is one, right?" He kissed Brian on the top of his head. "I must really love you to be lying here like this with you Kinney. You fucking reek."

"You're pretty ripe yourself, Davey."

"But all I'm saying Kinney, is just don't settle. You like cock, that's cool. All those guys are just a quick and easy way to get some. Just make sure they know you don't give a fuck. There's always another dude who'll do you."

"Kind of like how you are with girls."

"Exactly."

Brian woke up in the middle of the night, Something sharp was poking him in the back. He reached behind and realized it was Dave's cock, he could feel the flared head through his boxer shorts. Carefully, he turned so his ass was against it, rubbed his crack up and down against it, imagining Dave pumping into him. He grabbed his own cock and started to stroke it but then stopped. Dave was his brother. His guardian angel. His Prince Charming. The last thing he needed to do was to fuck that up. That's what the guys at Babylon were for, anyway. Just a bunch of freaks with mouths and asses for him to use. He thought about the blonde guy he'd fucked that night and how he came without touching himself and then used a dirty sock to clean up his load.

Dave's mother had sent a Lalique horse to Mrs. Kinney for hosting him along with an ornate bouquet of flowers. Dave knew she'd send some totally inappropriate gift, especially when he'd mentioned that Mrs. Kinney collected horse figurines.

The gift had its desired effect, or Dave's desired effect, of making the Kinneys even more uncomfortable in front of him, Jack Kinney in particular, and as they were saying their goodbyes, Dave went out of his way to remind them how amazing Brian was and how proud they must be of him.

"But mostly, I want to thank you both for raising such a wonderful guy." He put his hand on Brian's shoulder. "He's become like a brother to me and I just want you to know, that whatever happens, wherever fate takes us, I will always be watching out for Brian.

"I..we appreciate that Mist—David. Thank you very much… You've got a good friend here, sonny boy. And you do make me, Ma, Claire— all of us, very proud."

He clapped Brian on the shoulders and then his mother and Claire each kissed him on the cheek.

"Well that fine sentiment ought to last until the next time he hits the union hall," Brian muttered as they turned the corner.

"It's a start, dude. It's a start."

They had two nights at Lehigh before Dave had to leave for Chen-An-Go. It was enough time to move into the off-campus apartment they were going to share senior year. Brian had wanted to get a cheaper place nearer to campus, but when the money from the "Oro Foundation" came in, Dave talked him into getting a nicer place in a condo development down the road. It would be a long walk for Brian to get to campus, but he figured he could use the exercise.

The two bedroom apartment came furnished, but Dave insisted on getting new mattresses and there were boxes waiting for them at the post office with sheets and blankets and towels that Ken Gold's assistants had picked out.

The last night there, Dave walked Brian out to the Jeep and handed him the keys. "It's yours dude."

"What do you mean?"

"The Jeep. It's yours. My dad's getting me a new one. This one… it's a gift from me, my dad and my mom. Seriously, they both wanted you to have it. You.. you're the best thing that's ever happened to me Kinney. I used to feel lonely and sad all the time, and since I met you, I just don't. You make me laugh and you make me feel loved. And that's… that's… I just fucking love you, man." And he grabbed Brian in bear hug and kissed him on both cheeks.

"You… you are the most incredible thing that's ever happened to me, too, David. I can't believe you're real most of the time. I was this skinny gay loser from Pittsburgh and you turned me into a superstar. And then you saved my life. You make me feel like.. like I can do anything. And you still love me even when I can't."

"Dude, we have been together, every day, for the past three years. Every single day. It's going to be scary waking up without you there. Without having you to talk to before I go to sleep."

"I know, Dave. I am going to miss you like crazy. I will write to you every day. Sometimes twice a day. And I'm just going to study. Get A's in all my classes."

"And running. Remember the running— I want you to keep that up, the endorphins are good for you."

Brian pulled his sweatshirt off and handed it to Dave. "Now give me yours." Dave pulled his Lehigh Baseball sweatshirt off and handed it to Brian, who slipped it over his head. "When I wear this, it'll be like you're here," he said to Dave.

"And when I wear this, it'll be like you're up in Maine too," Dave said, pulling Brian's Lehigh Engineers sweatshirt on. "We're a couple of corny little saps, huh," he laughed.

"I like that you're corny, Dave. It's one of your most endearing traits. That and your extreme generosity. I don't know how to thank you for the Jeep. No one.. no one's ever given me a present like that."

"If you start crying Kinney, then I'm going to start and then we'll really be saps. So I'm going to tell a joke."

"Okay."

"What do you call an elephant that doesn't matter?"

"What?"

"An irrelephant."

"That's a terrible joke Gold"

"How many blondes does it take to change a light bulb?"

"How many?"

"Four. One to hold the bulb and the other three to turn the ladder.

"That's slightly better."

"I don't see you contributing."

"I don't do jokes Davey."

"Try."

"How many union members does it take to change a light bulb?"

"How many"

"50. It says so right here in the contract."

"That's not even remotely funny Kinney"

"Yeah, let's go inside, I want to call your parents and thank them."

They both slept in Dave's king sized bed that night, staying up until 4 AM just talking.

And in the morning Brian drove Dave to the Jeep dealership where he picked up his new car and because they were in public they only hugged each other three times before Dave left.

And Dave was okay until somewhere outside of Boston the radio started playing a new song from the Chili Peppers called Under The Bridge and when he heard Anthony Kiedis sing "Sometimes I feel like my only friend/Is the city I live in/The City of Angels/Lonely as I am/Together we cry" it was like someone had punched him in the stomach and he had to pull over to the side of the road till he could catch his breath and why did Kinney have to be gay and please God, don't let him get AIDS.

And Brian sat alone all day in the apartment with a bottle of Jim Beam, taking long sips whenever he felt the buzz start to fade, looking at the imprint on the pillow from where Dave had been laying, thinking about Rob Messina and Babylon and about Lindsay and about Color War at Chen An Go and swim races and bonfires and the nights at Looneys and Dave with his arm around him and a beer in his hand and the back room at Babylon and then the liquor couldn't chase away the Blue Meanies and he sank down onto the couch, sobbing and stayed like that as the sun set and he opened another bottle and at some point it was morning and his head was throbbing.


	13. A Phone Call From Pittsburgh

_Flash forward: the phone call between Brian and Dave the morning after Brian met Justin. It's a phone call, so it's all in dialog._

"Superstar!"

"Kinney?"

"Well who else knows you're a superstar?"

"Time zone, dude. It's 6:30 in the morning here"

"Sorry bro. But guess what— I'm a daddy!"

"What, like a leather daddy? That's what you woke me up to tell me?"

"No asshole. Lindsay had the baby!"

"What?! Holy shit! Brian! BRIAN! Mazel tov, dude! That's amazing!… Kinney!.. I'm like crying here!.. I am so happy for you buddy… What's his name?"

"Gus"

"No. For real."

"For real dude. That's his name."

"Wow!… Brian!… I have to come out there dude. Maybe this weekend! I'm a fucking uncle! An uncle!"

"I already told him about his Uncle Davey. Mel wants to have one of those Jewish ceremonies this weekend…"

"A bris?"

"Yeah."

"Shit! I'm working this weekend. It'll have to be the following weekend."

"The bris?"

"No dickhead. Me flying out to Pittsburgh… So were you there? When he was born and all?"

"Yeah."

"No you weren't. Even over the phone I can tell when you're lying Kinney."

"Yeah. I was with this trick last night and I turned my phone off and so I didn't get the message from Mel until around midnight. But I went over there with him and Mikey as soon as I heard. He's so cute."

"Gus or your trick?"

"Gus. Though the trick was pretty cute too."

"What's up with that?"

"What?"

"You took some random trick to the hospital with you? Some guy you picked up in that Babylon place? What the fuck?"

"He's not anyone special Gold. He's just some kid I met last night. And when we got back from the hospital, I gave him his first rim job and first fuck, so I guess I'll be pretty special to him."

"Whoa! You took some kid's virginity Kinney? This is someone you've been dating?"

"When are you going to get it through your head Davey— it's not like that in gay world. I didn't take him on a date and buy him dinner first. Though he did name Gus."

"Lindsay let some trick name her son? No way in fucking hell. Mel let some trick name her son? Quadruple no way in hell. Quintuple…"

"Well it was either that or Abraham and so they asked him. Not that anyone asked my opinion of what I wanted to name him, mind you, even if I am the father."

"Okay Kinney. Tell Uncle Davey. What did Brian want to name him?"

"David. David Kinney Peterson."

"That's very sweet dude."

"I'm serious Gold. I would have."

"That's very flattering, superstar. And I know you would have, too. How big is he?"

"Not very."

"I mean what was his birth weight…never mind, I'll find out from Lindsay. What hospital is she at?"

"County General."

"I thought I told you guys to go to University."

"Her doctor was at County."

"Okay.. I'll give him a thorough exam when I get out there— remind me to bring my gear… So about this kid…"

"Gus?"

"No. The one you deflowered last night. I'm assuming he's younger than you…"

"It was his first time Dave. And instead of getting fucked by some fumbling kid or creepy pedophile, I gave him something he'll always remember."

"And what, might I ask, spurred this act of complete selflessness?"

"I don't know Dave. Being a father. Wanting to look out of the next generation of queers. There was something incredibly sweet about him… I mean he came to the hospital with us and he… I don't know— he kind of reminded me of you a little bit, I guess. The way you always assume that people want you around, and that they're going to like you. He's got the most incredible ass too. And a face like a Botticelli angel."

"Holy shit!" Dave chuckled.

"What?"

"Nothing, What's his name?"

"I don't remember. It was a long night, Dave."

"What was his name?"

"I told you I don't remember."

"What was his name Kinney?"

"Justin. Justin Taylor."

"Oh my Lord,"

"What Gold? Stop being a dick."

"You are in love with him."

"I am not. He was a trick. A one time thing.."

"We're going to the chapel and we're gonna get ma-aa-aarried. Going to the chapel and—-"

"You don't know what you're talking about Gold."

"Oh I 100% know what I'm talking about Kinney. Dude— this is wonderful! You're a father and you're in love."

"I told you Dave. I don't believe in love. I believe in fucking. It 's honest, it's efficient. You get in and out with a maximum of pleasure, and a minimum of bullshit. "

"You don't say shit like that in front of other people, do you?"

"Shit like what?"

"Like 'I wanted to give him a night to remember' or 'he had the face of a Botticelli angel." Or that last line of bullshit about not believing in love."

"Fuck you Gold."

"I mean I love you Kinney, with all my heart, but you sound like an ABC After School Special. And as for not believing in love, Brian, that's a bullshit line we came up with when we were two dumb scared 19 year olds. It's just some line you give to girls when you're in college so they don't take things seriously. You're not supposed to actually believe it or keep using it ten years later."

"Exactly Gold— some girl. I'm not going to fall in love with some guy and start going on dates with him and holding hands and moving to a big house in the country."

"Well why the fuck not though Brian? You deserve to be happy just as much as anyone."

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"How's your quest for love going?"

"You know… It's what I've told you— I don't have a whole lot of free time being a resident, when I'm off, I'm exhausted, I've got a couple of things lined up, and you know, they know the drill, it's not like they expect me to be their boyfriend or anything.

"And do you take them to dinner?"

"No… well, one of them... sometimes. It's hard when you still live in your mother's basement dude."

"Well whose fault it that. She moved out and left the house to you five years ago and you haven't dragged your ass out of your old bedroom yet."

"I like it down here. It's closer to the pool."

"So tell me Davey, do you believe in love?"

"Most of the time."

"But not all of the time."

"No… not all of the time… and not because its something that straight people tell themselves they're in, so they can get laid or whatever bullshit you're spouting this week. "

"It's not bullshit, Gold."

"Yeah? You think so?

"I know."

"And you know what I know? That right now you are sitting on that overpriced couch of yours with your left foot on the coffee table, sucking down a big mug of black coffee into which you've poured like a half a sack of sugar."

"You're good."

"That's what she said."

"Touché Doctor Superstar."

"Well bro— I am so, so happy for you. For Gus and becoming a dad and meeting the man of your dreams and… you're a good guy Kinney. You deserve some happiness."

"He's not the man of my dreams Gold."

"Uh huh. Shit, it's almost 7 already- I have to go shower up, my shift starts at 8:30. I love you Superstar Brian Kinney."

"I love you too, Superstar Dave Gold."

"Give Gus a kiss from his Uncle Dave."

'Will do."

"Bye."

"Okay bye."

"I can't believe you're a father. This is like the best day of my life."

"I know. It's crazy."

"Yeah. But good crazy."

"Yeah. Good crazy."

"Okay, Bri, this is goodbye for real. I'll talk to you tonight."

"You're going to call me at 2 in the morning and say you forgot about the time zone, aren't you, Gold"

"That would be really immature and childish, Kinney, I would never do that. Though it would be good practice for having a newborn."

"Goodbye David."

"Goodbye Brian."

"I'm going to call Lindsay."

"Okay. I'll talk to you later."

"Goodbye Bri"

"Goodbye Dave. I'm hanging up the phone now."

"Bye."

* * *

"17!"

"Dave?"

"17! Justin Taylor is fucking 17 years old! Goddamn you Kinney, you are so fucking lucky that I am in LA right now because I swear if I could, I would reach my hands out through the phone wire right now and strangle you."

"It's not that big a deal Gold."

"I am going to beat the living shit out of you Brian A. Kinney. You could go to jail for this you fucking moron! Jail!"

"It's none of your business Dave."

"Like hell it isn't! If I am going to have to spend every month flying to some fucking prison to visit you, then it damn well is my fucking business."

"Who asked you to come visit?"

"Just shut the fuck up, okay? Just shut the fuck up with your "poor Brian" crap. And just because fucking Lindsay, who'd ditch that angry dyke in a heartbeat if you said you'd marry her, thinks it's "sweet," that he's 17 does not make it okay.

"He's beautiful Dave."

"He's off-limits Brian. Get that through your tiny little pea brain. Off-limits. Ill-legal. Jail bait."

"It's not like your world Dave. Love comes in all sizes and ages. I gave him a night that he'll always remember. A night that he'll cherish forever."

"So we're back to the fucking After School Special talk now. On a very special episode of "A Night to Cherish—"

"It's none of your fucking business Gold! Butt out!"

"Butt out? I'm sure that's what you told him."

"I'm serious Dave. Butt out."

"You're serious? Just work with me for a minute here, Kinney. What would your reaction be if I told you I met some 17 year old girl last night— a high school student who still lived with her parents. And that I took her home and took her virginity because I didn't want some fumbling high school boy to be the one to do it."

"I'd say good for you Superstar for introducing the young lady into the joys of lovemaking. I can't think of a better first time partner."

"Stop making shit up to prove your point. What would you say for real Kinney?"

"Dave, Dave, he's our man! If he can't do it no one can!"

"That's strike two. You get one more chance for the jackpot, Kinney."

"Okay Gold. You win. I'd tell that you were a sick fuck and twisted pervert and make you swear you wouldn't see her again."

"And…?"

"And? And you'd be thinking that Brian is a jackass, that he doesn't understand that this girl got under your skin somehow and that you can't stop thinking about her and that you're fucking scared because you don't know why a seemingly rational 29 year old man, a respected pediatrician. would fall for a 17 year old girl."

"Oh Lord.. didn't see that one coming… okay… we're gonna figure this out Kinney, okay. You and me, together, we're gonna figure this out. Okay… okay… I mean do you think he reminded you of yourself at that age and you just wanted to protect him because you'd just had Gus and it all kind of made sense?"

"No. He reminded me of you, Davey. The way he just assumed that he belonged everywhere and that everyone would like him."

"So you were trying to protect me? No… forget that, it doesn't make any sense. Okay, okay, so let's say that you do love him and all— when does he turn 18?"

"In a few months, I think."

"Better than 11 months, right?... So you have to promise yourself not to fuck him for a few months or you could go to jail. And if you go to jail, you can never fuck him. Ever. You with me?"

"He told me I said I loved him."

"And since you just go dropping that phrase on every guy you meet you can't remember if this was the trick you said 'I love you' to."

"Don't call him a trick."

"Don't start with me Kinney, I'm trying to help you."

"I'm not starting anything with you, David. I just don't like you calling him a trick."

"Now you're getting all Hannibal Lecter on me dude. Let's just go back to the problem at hand. So you're not going to call him or drive by his school or house or anything, right? You are going to wait until he is 18 and then if this thing hasn't passed, we can re-evaluate."

"It's not a gall stone, Davey."

"Brian, I could lose my fucking medical license for even having this conversation with you, you know that, right? So work with me, dude."

"Well, what Gold?"

"Okay, you get that he's not going to be mature enough to return your feelings, right. He's still a kid."

"Is that your professional opinion Doctor Dave or are you merely speculating so as not to get my hopes up?"

"Both, okay. Very few 18 year olds are capable of making any type of long-term commitment. Especially if their peers are not at that stage. So like if he was some kid from a village in India where everyone gets married at 16, he might be able to pull it off, but an American suburban teenager whose friends are headed for college… not so much."

"So what do you suggest, Doctor Gold?"

"Well perhaps the condition will go away in a few days. It could be tied up with becoming a father, there could be some other cause. There's an outside chance it could even be true love."

"And then?"

"If it hasn't gone away, we can re-evaluate, try a different course of action."

"It isn't tonsillitis, Dave. I told him I love him."

"You take these fucking drugs Kinney, you don't know what's in them. And you know what? The blue meanies come back anyway. And because the drugs contain either amphetamines or depressants, they come back even harder."

"They're fun, Gold. You should try them. You'd love Ecstasy. You can make the whole world happy with Ecstasy."

"I was reading last month in the Lancet about this kid in Ireland who took Ecstasy—"

"— And he turned into a toad and ate his parents. I know Gold. There's always some horror story."

"No actually in this one, he let his best friend check him into Betty Ford and when he came out three months later he was his old self again and he was happy and he fell in love with a man his own age and lived happily ever after."

"Oh, I did read that one. He also moved from Ireland to L.A., because no one can be truly happy unless they live in L.A."

"Okay Brian, let's not fight. What are you going to do if he calls you or tries to see you again?"

"What do I want to do? Bring him up to my bed and make sweet love to his sweet blonde ass over and over again…. what do I know I have to do? Push him away, reject him, break both our hearts. You happy now Dave?"

"Whether or not I'm happy is irrelevant. I want you to be happy."

"Well 'happy' is an odd word to use in this situation, isn't it. Let's say I'm resigned. Resigned to the reality of the situation."

"I wish it was different Brian. You know I do right?"

"You love me beyond all reason Gold."

"As do you me"

"As we have since we first laid eyes on each other when we were eighteen."

"We were the same age, Brian. And we weren't fucking each other."

"That was your choice."

"That was nature's choice Kinney. And stop."

"It was a good try."

"That it was… so you okay?"

"Not really. But I will be."

"Go—"

"—to the gym and run on the treadmill," I know. And I will because it does work. But right now I have to go to work and write ads for the Western Pennsylvania Steel Mill Owners Association."

"Okay. And I have to go heal sick children. Really fucking adorable sick children too. With puppies. So we sort of balance each other out."

"I love you more than I'll ever love any blonde trick."

"Same. I love you more than you'll ever love any blonde trick."

"You're a nut and a superstar. Now get to work."

"You're a nut and a superstar."

"Goodbye."

"Jinx— Jinx"

"I said it first."

"You did not Gold. I said it first."

"Okay, you said it first. I'm going to be late."

"Call me tonight though… at a normal time."

"Yeah, like when the news comes on."

"A normal East Coast time, Gold."

"Oh. Okay, Brian."

"Goodbye Superstar."

"Goodbye Other Superstar."

"Hang up the phone David."

"You first."

"Fine… Gold? Gold? Goodbye."


	14. The Summer Of His Discontent

_This is a long chapter. Brian deals with being at Lehigh alone for the summer, without Dave. He spends some weekends in NYC in an attempt to come to terms with being gay. Michael visits. And then Brian and Dave head out to Los Angeles for a final hurrah before school starts and some long-simmering hostilities come out in the open._

Brian had finally gone for a run late that first afternoon. He knew that Dave was going to call him after dinner and he wanted to be able to truthfully tell him he'd been trying.

And he did feel better afterwards, especially when he talked to Dave, and the boys in their old old group got on the phone too, telling him how much they missed him, getting his address so they could write to him, which actually made him feel better and worse all at once. But he felt better enough though to actually line up all his textbooks, carefully label all his notebooks, and, despite the fact that is was already dark out, wash and polish the Jeep.

School was okay. The summer classes were much smaller— there were only 8 students in his English seminar, and the students weren't so much Lehigh students as college kids who lived locally and wanted to try and make up some credits over the summer.

He'd even started to become friends with a group of kids from his upper level marketing class. They were, he realized, the sort of kids he'd have been petrified of in high school, confident looking jock boys who'd have mocked him, tripped Michael, knocked their books out of their hands in the hallways. Only thanks to Dave, he was now one of them. He moved like them. He talked like them, and they'd immediately acknowledged him as one of them. It was something he'd watched Dave do, just walk into a classroom and immediately know who he was going to be friends with, only Brian never knew how he knew, what the secret handshake was. Until now.

And so they'd go grab lunch in the Union every day after class, there were four of them, three guys and a girl. One of the guys, Will, he was a junior at Georgetown, taller than Brian with sandy blonde hair and green eyes, a swimmer with the build to go with it, he was the one Brian clicked best with and Will soon became the subject of Brian's masturbatory fantasies.

He would flirt with Will sometimes, letting his leg fall against Will's as they sat at lunch and Will sometimes left it there and Brian would get hard, wondering what it was that you were supposed to do if you weren't at Babylon to let a guy know you were interested, wondering how you could tell, what that particular secret handshake was.

One Friday they all agreed to meet up at a bar in Bethlehem and a couple of the guys had brought their high school friends along. Denise, the girl they were friends with, had brought a bunch of her girlfriends with her, girls she knew from Bethlehem Country Day, and they were all really preppy in the same way that Lindsay was and Brian wondered what Lindsay was up to and made a mental note to call her, it had been at least a month since they'd last talked.

Will was sitting off to the side and didn't seem all that into the girls either and so Brian sat down next to him, started talking to him, it was tight at the table and Brian was a little buzzed, so he let his knee casually fall against Will's and Will didn't move it and Brian got hard and he was flirting with Will some more, telling him he could probably open beer bottles with his back muscles and then Will said that one of the girls was checking out Brian and Brian felt brave and said "yeah, if I wasn't gay I'd be flattered" and Will laughed like Brian was joking only then he realized he was serious and asked "Wait— are you really gay?"

Brian nodded his head— he was too scared to speak— and kept his eyes on Will.

"Does anybody know?"

"Yeah. I came out last year."

"Wow. You don't seem gay at all, Kinney. How did your friends react?"

"They were all cool. Especially my roommate. We're still best friends."

"Wow. You're really lucky. It's cool with me though… I won't say anything."

"It's not a secret Will. You can tell who you want."

"Cool."

Brian took another slug of his vodka and cranberry juice, let the silence get a little more awkward. "So are you….?"

"Hell no!" And then he laughed, nervously. "Sorry Kinney. I mean it's cool if you are, but I'm not gay. Definitely not gay."

"Then I won't try and fuck you."

And Will looked nervous and then he laughed, really hard. "Good one, Kinney! You had me going there for a minute," and they shook hands and patted each other on the back and then Brian bought them each a shot, "for being so cool about it,"— it was, he decided, the sort of thing Dave would do— and they fell back into their conversation about classes and the war in Iraq and when Brian felt he'd gotten sober enough to drive, he said his goodbyes and drove home, jerking off that night to a fantasy of Will telling him he was gay too and the two of them spending the night in a variety of different sexual postures and positions.

They started the third week of classes— they were almost halfway through— and everything was as it had been, only on Wednesday when Brian got outside the lecture hall, his friends weren't there and when he went to the Union they weren't there either, which was odd mostly because the routine had never varied, and then the next day he caught up with them and they all seemed to have some reason they couldn't eat lunch, all of them except Denise and even she steered them over to a table with a bunch of girls she seemed to know and none of them talked to Brian, they didn't exactly ignore him, but they didn't include him either and Brian made some excuse and wandered off early, over to the parking lot, where he saw Will and Charlie, one of the other guys from their group, getting out of Charlie's car, only they seemed like they were trying to pretend they didn't see him.

"Hey dudes!" Brian called out, fighting the nervous feeling in his stomach, trying to remember what Gold would do, _why do you always assume it's about you, Kinney, maybe he just had a fight with his girlfriend and he doesn't feel like talking to anyone right now?_ and so he walked over to them a smile plastered on his face, willing himself to think that they would be happy to see him.

"Oh, hey Brian. How's it going?"

"Good. Missed you guys at lunch."

"Yeah, well, we, you know, we had to study for Econ," Will stammered.

"Yeah," Charlie added. "The midterm is next week so we really need to study."

"Cool… well, I'll see you in class, then."

And they all stood there awkwardly until Brian turned and walked towards his car and he could hear Charlie and Will laughing and Dave's voice telling him _why would you think they were laughing at you, Kinney? There's a million things they could be laughing about_, only they were, he knew it and then on Friday once again everyone was awkward around him and needed to study or run an errand and when he caught up to Will and asked him what was up, Will pretended not to know what he was talking about.

"Is it because of what I told you at the bar on Friday?" Brian asked him.

Will just shrugged and said "Look dude, it's summer school. We're out of here in three more weeks. It's not like we're gonna be best friends or like we all have to hang together all the time."

And Brian willed himself not to show anything, to just smile, and say "that's cool," and walk away, but inside he was crying, everything was collapsing and he got in the car and drove home and drank from a bottle of Jim Beam until it stopped hurting.

Dave called him around 7:30 and Brian had sobered up enough to talk, but not enough to avoid telling Dave the story.

"Well fuck them then, Kinney, they're a bunch of narrow minded worthless assholes."

"That's easy for you to say, Dave. You're not the one being rejected for being a fag."

"Stop calling yourself that Brian. Don't let that define you. You're a writer, a brother, a Pittsburghian—Pittsburgher— whatever— you're a lot more than just that."

"But that's all that other people see, Gold."

"Brian— you're going to judge everyone else in the world because some fucking townies— and that's all they are dude— townies— because they chose to define you that way."

"Everyone looks at fags that way David. We're a bunch of AIDS ridden freaks."

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself Brian! I will not let you do that! You have the power to decide that all you are is a stupid faggot. Or you can decide that who you love is just one part of who you are, but that there are other parts that are just as, if not more important. And only you get to decide that."

"Are you done preaching, Gold?"

"What do you want me to say Bri? That they're right?… Listen, you know plenty of people have a problem with me being Jewish. They'll say stuff like 'oh you're so good-looking I didn't think you were Jewish,' or 'oh you're so good at sports, are you sure you're a Jew?'— and I could either decide that they all hate me and go home and cry about it or I could engage with them and try and change their opinion about Jews, make them realize that their stereotype was wrong and most of the time that works. Sometimes it doesn't, dude, and then you just have to say fuck them."

"It's not the same, Gold." Brian took another swig from the bottle.

"How is it not the same Brian?"

"Because I'm the only queer I know. It's just me, all alone here."

"I understand dude. I do. And it's hard. I mean… sometimes, especially with baseball, I'll be someplace where I know I'm the only Jew. And I hope nobody says something like "well what kind of ham does your family eat for Easter, Dave?" and I know it must be like that for you when people say "oh, do you have a girlfriend , Brian?"

He could hear Brian sobbing on the other end. Could hear him drinking something. "Kinney? Brian? Are you there dude? Are you okay, buddy?"

"I—I— I— I— I love you Davey. I love you so much. You're the only one who understands."

"No Brian. No, I'm not. Lots of people understand. You just have to give them the chance."

"No. Not like you."

"Okay. Take another swig of whatever it is you're drinking there and then I want you to lie down. You take my sweatshirt and you're going to pretend like I'm there and if one of those asshole tries to be mean to you, what am I going to do to him?"

"Twist his head off."

"Close"

"Twist his fucking head off."

"Exactly. Now you lie down and get some rest. And don't worry about those assholes. Mikey is coming tomorrow and you're going to have a good weekend. I love you superstar Kinney."

"Love you too Davey. Superstar Davey."

And Dave hung up the phone, which was on the wall outside the office cabin at Chen-An-Go and kicked a rock that was on the ground. Why did people have to be so mean to poor Kinney, didn't they know what a great guy he was. The optional Shabbat service was going on in the canteen next door and for the first time in the 15 summers he'd spent at Chen-An-Go, Dave stepped inside. He didn't remember most of the prayers, only bits and pieces of them, so he sort of hummed along to the guitar music and in his mind he prayed to God to watch out over Brian and make him happy and keep him safe from AIDS.

Back in Pennsylvania, Brian took a few more swigs of Jim Beam and stumbled into Dave's bedroom, wrapping himself in the blankets and pillows that smelled like Dave, hugging the Lehigh Baseball sweatshirt and as he got deeper and deeper under the covers the shaking slowed down and he held onto the sweatshirt and drifted off to sleep.

Brian was awakened early the next morning by a call from Michael who would not be coming that weekend, Q-Mart was having a big sale and his manager wouldn't let him go and why hadn't Brian answered the phone last night, he tried about ten different times.

And Brian was only a little upset that Mikey wasn't coming. He loved Mikey, or what Mikey and his mom had done for him, but Mikey was never low maintenance and the older they got, the more it seemed they were growing apart.

Brian went on another run. The sun felt good on his face in the cool morning air and when he was done he was feeling a lot better. The weather for the weekend was supposed to be perfect, in the high 70s with low humidity. Which was one of the reasons he decided to head into New York City. If he was going to be a faggot, he might as well go there. That and San Francisco were the places they knew how to do faggot right.

The drive only took about an hour and 15 minutes, there was hardly any traffic and even the George Washington Bridge was pretty empty. Brian headed to Chelsea, which he'd heard was the center of gay nightlife in New York, parked the Jeep and decided to walk around.

Eighth Avenue seemed to be the center of the gay community, there were rainbow flags everywhere and plenty of stores selling greeting cards, candles and other tchotchkes. Brian looked at the men walking on the street and thought to himself that all these guys were gay, just like him, only none of them seemed to be a lot like him. There were bodybuilders, guys with comically large pecs and legs, coming to and from the gym, lots of really obvious or effeminate guys, guys wearing clothes so fashionable they looked more like Halloween costumes and some super preppy boys who somehow managed to look like a more stylized, more, well, gay version of the guys at the Fiji house back at school.

He had an early dinner at a diner sort of place with outdoor tables and started flirting with the waiter, a young guy named Anthony, who was giving him advice on where to go. According to Anthony, a club named Splash was where Brian would find the most guys like himself, or at least the widest diversity.

Before he left, Brian headed to the bathroom, which was down a long hallway that headed back to the kitchen. As he was entering the bathroom, he noticed Anthony headed that way too, and as the dark haired waiter approached, Brian fixed him with his eyes and when he paused in front of the bathroom, Brian smiled and made a motion with this head to join him. Anthony double checked the hallway and then ducked into the bathroom with Brian, who grabbed him a in a long kiss.

"I want you on your knees, taking care of my cock," he whispered and Anthony looked up with his big brown eyes and unbuckled Brian's pants and took Brian's cock out.

"Bushy," he said, patting Brian's pubes, and then went to work, giving Brian a combination blow job and hand job.

"Let me fuck you," Brian whispered after Anthony had gotten him fairly close.

"Not now dude— not enough time." And he redoubled his efforts, especially with his hands, and in a minute Brian was cumming onto the black and white tile floor as Anthony's hand continued to stroke his penis.

"Well that's the nicest tip I've gotten in a while," Anthony smirked.

"So what are you doing later?" Brian asked, hoping to get a chance to fuck Anthony during round 2.

"Oh," Anthony blushed. "I have a boyfriend. We're allowed to mess around so long as we don't fuck the other guy… but definitely go to Splash, you'll have fun."

Brian waited for a minute after Anthony had ducked out of the bathroom and then continued wandering up Eighth Avenue. There was a store that sold workout clothes and he walked in figuring he could use an extra pair of running shorts. Only the store didn't have running shorts as much as shorts that seemed designed to show off your ass and genitals. The older, bearded salesmen (there were two, Brian wasn't sure if they were lovers or brothers) kept telling each other how adorable Brian was and how he had eyes "to die for." They finally settled on a pair of what appeared to be football shorts, made out of sweatshirt material. The shorts laced up the front like sneakers and this raised and lifted Brian's cock and balls, making them appear far more prominent. They paired it with a tight-fitting sleeveless t-shirt that was cut to look like the sleeves had been scissored off. Or maybe the store owners had done that themselves. Brian wasn't sure.

He did know that the outfit was hot and so he left it on and took the clothes he'd been wearing - jeans and a low-cut v-neck t-shirt— and brought them back to the Jeep.

By that time it was close to 9 PM and the streets had really come to life. Brian walked up and down Eighth Avenue, enjoying the number of stares he was getting. "You see, not all the hot guys are in Fire Island," a middle aged man carrying a shih-tzu said to his stocky bearded companion, as they shamelessly gave Brian the once over.

He felt like Gold. Strangers were always talking about how handsome Dave was, one time they were at a WaWa near campus and the old lady there asked Dave if he was a movie star, she kept trying to figure out what movie she'd seen him in and actually seemed offended when he kept insisting he was just a Lehigh student.

By 11 it was time to head over to Splash. The club was as big as Babylon, but much more crowded and there were more different kinds of people here: slim androgynous Asians, older businessman types, guys who looked like the were in the cast of Goodfellas and, to Brian's delight, a group of guys who looked like high school or college athletes.

The latter group were all in great shape, with huge arms and chests, and they were wearing the sort of clothes that Dave, Brian and their friends wore on weekends: baggy basketball shorts and cut-off t-shirts. Some of them even had the bottom of the shirts cut off the way some of the TKEs did, to show off their abs. Brian walked over to them, unsure if he'd be able to adhere to Gold's plan and top them.

One of them, a tall guy with glossy straight brown hair and full lips made eye contact with Brian when he walked by. He looked and even held himself a lot like Todd Corrigan, a cocky lacrosse player who'd graduated last year.

Brian stopped, and emboldened by the two shots of Jim Beam he'd had earlier, asked the guy "Now aren't you glad you didn't go to Fire Island this weekend?"

"Oh, I know," the guy said, flapping his wrist about. "It is just so crowded out there and everyone always checking each other out. Not. For. Me… so who are you, Miss Cutie Pie?"

Brian couldn't but stare in amazement. It was like there was a ventriloquist somewhere, making Richard Simmons voice come out of this hot jock's mouth. He figured he'd try again. "Well, I'm still in school, so I don't have to worry about Fire Island for another year."

"A college boy! Brains and beauty! What are you studying?"

"English and Mass Communications. I want to go into advertising."

"You should meet Rick, then," he said, turning to get the attention of his friend, a shorter man with close-cropped wavy hair and bright blue-green eyes. "Rick, this cute little twink here wants to work in advertising… Rick is an art director at PRT&T."

"Well not really an art director, more of a layout artist," Rick said, and to Brian's ear he sounded every bit as femme as the Todd Corrigan lookalike, despite the almost military look he was sporting.

"Yes, Rick lays out and it's art." the faux Corrigan squealed, and their friends all laughed along with him.

Brian smiled to be polite.

A burlier guy, who was wearing a cut off football jersey Brian now saw said "Abercrombie" not "Alabama" as he'd first suspected, turned around and smiled a very Dave Gold like smile at Brian. "What have we here?" he asked in a voice that reminded Brian of the announcers you hear reading the contest details at the end of a radio spot.

"Hi, I'm Brian Kinney," he said and hoped he'd pulled off the same tone Dave always used, the one that implied "and of course you know me and want to meet me."

"Scott Foster," the big man smiled and grabbed Brian's hand, leading him over to a stool next to him.

He talked to Scott for a bit— Scott was indeed an actor and had done a bunch of TV commercials and voiceover work though his real dream was to be on Broadway, in a musical— he was a singer and dancer too. He was impressed that Brian went to Lehigh and told him it was a good school. Rick came over to talk to them as well, it seemed they were a couple, and he gave Brian some tips on how to break in with the big NYC ad agencies and even offered his card in case Brian had any questions.

Scott and Rick filled Brian in on the various tribes at Splash: the twinks and the clones and Chelsea Boys and the bears and the married guys from the suburbs who'd told their wives they were having dinner with a client.

"Aren't there any, you know, regular guy, guys like me?" he asked.

"There are," Scott said. "But not all that many. A lot of guys start out like you and then find their inner queer when they come here," he said, motioning at Rick. "Others find a group to sort of be part of and start dressing like them." He pointed to himself. "I'm an actor. Chelsea Boy is my part."

"So you were all worked out even back in college?"

"No," Scott laughed. "I was defined from all those dance classes. But the muscle is fairly new… you should start lifting yourself, lest people dismiss you as just another twink."

"I do the fucking," Brian said reflexively. "I don't get fucked."

"An exclusive top? Then you really need to hit the gym. We all go to David Barton."

"I don't think they have a branch at Lehigh."

"Well then work out with a friend. It's a lot easier that way."

"My roommate plays baseball. He works out a lot. I'll just go with him."

"Ohh," Rick chortled. "A gay baseball player. Sounds hot."

"He's not gay," Brian said.

"Does he know you are?"

"Yes. He's the first person I told and he's been really supportive. He's still my best friend."

"Have you tried to seduce him yet?" Scott asked.

"No."

"Bullshit," Scott said. "A hot baseball player? You know you couldn't resist."

"One time," Brian blushed.

"It's not a big deal— every gay boy tried to seduce his straight best friend. He's the guy you'd find eternal happiness with if he'd just love you back that same way."

Brian didn't say anything but he could tell Scott realized he'd hit a nerve.

"It happens," Scott finally said. "Mine was a guitar player. Hot as fuck."

"So… so are you still friends with him?" Brian asked.

"No," Scott shook his head sadly. "He was cool with me being gay for about a month, and then one night we got drunk and I gave him a blow job and then the next morning he stopped talking to me. Just left me a note telling me he was moving out into another dorm and refused to talk to me the rest of college."

Brian started welling up and Rick reached out and stroked his arm. "Don't worry sweetie. Scott has a particularly sad story. My best friend was happy to let me blow him. Until he met some girl and they started going out and one day he just told me that we'd have to stop. He started hanging out with her and her friends and one day he told me that they didn't like having me around because they all thought I was too gay. So there you are."

"You sound very lucky though," Scott said, shooting a look at Rick, who had also observed Brian welling up. "Your friend seems to have a really good attitude about it."

"Very mature," Rick added.

They got Brian another drink and talked some more and then he went home with them, to their walk-up on West 20th Street and he fucked both of them— Scott claimed he liked getting fucked by smaller guys— and in the morning they did a blow job daisy chain, switching position every five minutes.

Their apartment, which Brian got to really see over breakfast, had all sorts of theater posters and kitschy items that Scott and Rick liked to collect: hula dolls, 1970s lunch boxes, Barbies. It looked like a gay man' s apartment, definitely not a bachelor pad. But Scott and Rick were nice guys and they were hot and Brian realized they could be very helpful to him, so he thanked them profusely, exchanged phone numbers and left them each with a long smoldering kiss at the doorway.

At which point he drove back to Lehigh, convinced that he'd never find any gay man who was the least bit like him and that if he wasn't more careful, he'd eventually drive Dave away.

Dave called him later that night, after Brian had drunk a quarter of the bottle of Gordon's vodka he'd bought in New Jersey on his way home— at the rate he was drinking it, the Jim Beam was getting too expensive.

Dave was full of news, all about the upcoming inter camp games where he was, finally, going to be the captain of all the Chen-An-Go teams and he spent 15 minutes going over his decisions with Brian, who surprisingly found he actually had something to contribute, convincing Dave to switch around a couple of the counselors and seniors on the soccer team.

"See, I am so glad I talked to you tonight, Kinney… well, I'm always glad I talked to you, but you know what I mean. So tell me what you've been up to."

"I went to New York for the weekend."

"Oh,cool! Did you stay with someone? You know I think Jeff Grossman is home for the summer and he lives on the East Side somewhere."

"Well I wasn't planning on spending the night there."

"But… sounds like someone got lucky."

"Well I went down to Chelsea— that's where all the gays are. And I had dinner at this restaurant and the waiter, he was kind of flirting with me and so—"

"You met up with him at his place later?"

"Not exactly."

"What then?"

"Well, let's just say Rob Messina taught me more than how to have a hands-free orgasm."

"Huh? Oh shit— in the bathroom dude? You're a dawg Kinney. So you gonna see him again? Is he a good guy?"

"Dave…" Brian sighed.

"Okay, okay. So go on— what did you next… after you did the waiter."

"Well he just blew me. So then I went to this club, Splash. And it wasn't like Babylon, it was more of a bar, just. And there were these guys there… it was really strange Davey— they looked like guys we'd know, like frat guys, only big buff frat guys. Wearing basketball shorts and football shirts and all—"

"Right"

"Only the shirts said 'Abercrombie'— not Alabama or Penn State or anything, and the guys might have looked like TKEs but they sounded like.. like—"

"Like what? Like guidos?"

"No. Like fags. It was like there was ventriloquist and Richard Simmons voice was coming out of Billy DiMeola's body…. I don't know how else to explain it."

Dave was laughing hysterically on the other end. "I'm sorry Kinney, that is the funniest thing I've heard all summer. That is such a hilarious mental image."

"Well that's what it was like Dave."

"All of them? That's even funnier. I keep thinking of DiMeola and the other TKEs with lipstick and little red purses." He laughed even harder.

And in that moment Brian realized how incredibly lucky he was to have Dave, because there was no way Michael or anyone else he knew would have understood why that was so funny, no one but Dave. He just got it.

"No… hold on, I need to catch my breath…." Dave started laughing again and so did Brian and then he started crying too and then laughing and it scared him so he forced himself to catch his breath and speak. "There… there were these two guys. One of them was sort of a Richard Simmons, but the other one was an actor, he does radio commercials, so he sounded like a radio guy" Brian lowered his voice accordingly. "They were a couple, but they were explaining all about the different kinds of gay guys in New York—"

"And?"

"And they thought I was hot and I went home with them."

"Hat trick, Brian Kinney!"

Brian had lived with Dave long enough to know that hat trick was a hockey term for scoring three goals. "Yeah, it was pretty hot. I slept over there and then we had a repeat in the morning…. and yes, we used condoms and yes I was always the top."

"You are a stud. Brian Fucking Kinney!… but, and don't take this the wrong way, but if you had a boyfriend that you were really into, why would you take some guy home— even a guy as studly as Brian Fucking Kinney— so that he could fuck the both of you?"

Brian sighed. "I was wondering that too, Davey. Maybe they wanted to compare notes, maybe they felt it would be bonding, getting fucked by the same guy… I don't know."

"Well when you find a boyfriend, you're not going to do that kind of shit. Can you imagine 'Hi honey, I brought this dude home to bone both of us because well, clearly my dick's just not up to the task."

Brian laughed and thought to himself that if Dave was his boyfriend there was no way he'd ever want to share him with anyone. "So what about you Dave, what else is going on? Who are this week's conquests?"

"Well, that's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. You remember that girl Jodi Greenberg, she's from Chicago, she was one of the seniors last year. Long brown hair, big tits.."

"She has really big bright eyes, right, really striking… good friends with Caryn and Emily?"

"Yup, that's the one…. well, she's a counselor now and well, we've sort of been going out for the past two weeks."

"Dude! That's great! So the great Dave Gold does 'do girlfriends.'"

"Yeah, I guess."

Since freshman year, "I don't do girlfriends" had been Dave's stock response to any girl who wanted to see him more than once or actually go on a date with him.

"So why Jodi?"

"I don't know… you know, she pretty cool and she's easy to talk to and all— her brother is gay too, so we have that in common, you know, she's been really cool about all that… and she's got really nice tits, like big but super firm, you know?"

"I'll take your word for it Gold. And when I get a boyfriend, you're going to have to listen to me describe his dick in excruciating detail."

"If you got a boyfriend and he was a good dude, it would be my pleasure, Bri."

"Thank you. You're—"

"Hey Kinney, sorry— someone else needs to use the phone. I'm glad you had a good time. Good luck with midterms and I'll talk to you tomorrow…. Mega Superstar."

"Okay, well say hi to Jodi for me, and good luck with intercamps, Mega SuperStud Superstar. I love you dude."

"Same. To the infinity. But I've got to go."

And Brian hung up the phone and he laughed at first and then started crying and he drank some more vodka and took Dave's sweatshirt and hugged it and replayed "her brother is gay too, so we have that in common" in his head and Davey thought of him like a brother and his parents even gave Brian a Jeep and at least there was somebody who loved him and he kissed the sweatshirt and hugged it and fell asleep with the light on.

Chen-An-Go was behind by 2 runs in the bottom of the ninth inning of the Intercamp Games with two runners on base. There had been some bad blood already between Chen-An-Go and Pine Crest over a play at second that the ump had called out but Dave was sure his runner was safe and Pine Crest's captain had been giving Dave grief about the line-up the whole game, who was supposed to be in the game, what was their number, was he sure all these guys went to Chen-An-Go?

But now Dave was up at bat and Pine Crest pitcher was tired and he wasn't very good. The first pitch was high and outside, but the second was a little inside but close enough that Dave could send it sailing over the fence to win the game.

And as the Chen-An-Go campers piled on the field to mob Dave as he crossed home plate, one of the junior boys— he never found out who— yelled out "Pine Crest Sucks!" which was against the Chen-An-Go Code of Honor— and then some guy from Pine Crest, a tall guy with thinning blonde hair who'd been playing third base yelled out "Not as hard as Dave Gold sucks his gay roommate's cock."

"Fuck you! Kinney's a cool guy!" one of the kids in Dave's group yelled back— it sounded like Jared Stein, who Brian had worked with to develop his goal keeper skills last summer.

"Are you sucking his cock too, you little faggot?" the Pine Crest guy said.

"No but I bet you are! Loser!"

"Hey, you take that back you little queer," the Pine Crest guy said and grabbed Jared's arm.

"Get the fuck off of me, asshole."

"Why, are you going to give me AIDS, you fag lover!" And he shoved Jared to the ground.

Dave saw red and from what people told him afterwards, he let out a deep guttural yell and took off across the field "like a mad man" screaming out "I am going to rip your fucking head off", and grabbed the frightened Pine Crest third baseman in a headlock and was in the process of removing his head from his neck, and that it took six Chen-An-Go counselors to pull Dave off of him only all Dave remembered was the guy throwing Jared to the ground and then Jason Beck and Scott Schwartz holding him back while he was screaming "I"m going to rip his fucking head off!" and then Jodi was there and stroking his hair and telling him to calm down, it was okay, that asshole wasn't worth his time and he hugged her and cried into her neck for a minute, she always smelled so good and then he found Jared and grabbed his hand and lifted it into the air.

"Jared Stein is a hero!" he announced. "He embodies the true spirit of everything Chen-An-Go stands for. Defending our brother Brian when he's not here to defend himself. Standing up to bigotry. You are so awesome, Jared! Everybody give Jared a big round of applause."

And they did, as Jared beamed from ear to ear, because Dave said so, because they'd beaten Pine Crest and because Jared wasn't the kind of kid who ever did anything heroic.

"So what happened today, Davey ?" Jerry Rabin was sitting in on the leather couch in the living room of the cabin he and his wife Susan lived in during camp. He was a tall man— about six four, with a fringe of white hair peeking out from under the Chen-An-Go baseball cap he always wore. Susan, who was seated on the couch next to him, was a slim perky blonde who seemed to live in a tennis dress. During the school year they both worked as guidance counselors at a school district on Long Island.

"I don't know, the guy shoved Jared down… Jared's only like 14… I guess I just lost it."

"He was also saying things about Brian Kinney, wasn't he?"

"I guess." Dave fidgeted in his chair, tracing the Native American style moose that was embroidered on the arm of it.

"You never told us that Brian was gay."

"We heard about it from some of the other counselors, they have friends who go to Lehigh."

"It didn't seem like that big a deal. It wasn't why he didn't come back."

Jerry sighed and leaned forward on the couch. 'David. We've known you since you were a little lost six year old toddling off the plane with your baseball bat. You were always a popular kid but you never had one particular best friend— the other kids would always want to be your partner when we did things, and you were good about always picking the kid who no one was going to pick."

"And David—" Susan cut in, "we know your parents. They're not bad people, but you were never their first priority. You survived… you thrived because you were a happy kid and you knew how to make people like you. And you always had a good heart. That's why we're so thrilled you're going to go med school. And by the way, we expect you back here as the camp doctor every summer, young man."

"But back to Brian," Jerry continued. "I was so thrilled when you brought him in. He was just like the kids you'd pick to sit next to you on the bus— some awkward, skinny kid from a very different world— but when you were together, you lit each other up. He was the first real friend I'd ever seen you have."

"And you guys were great with the junior boys—" Susan continued. "You complemented each other perfectly."

"So all we're saying," Jerry said, "Is that maybe you want to talk to somebody about how you feel about him being gay. I mean I had no idea he was, it never crossed my mind."

"Me either," Susan added. "Nothing sissyish about him. And the girls all loved him— he was such a sweet, funny boy."

"I know you were very supportive of him when he came out, that you made a speech to the whole college and then you made a big party… and also David, that Brian had a nervous breakdown and that you went out to LA with him for two months and somehow nursed him back to health. Which is why he's not here, because he's at summer school."

"Would you have taken him back? If you'd known he was gay?"

"Of course—"

"I don't know— it's not that easy, Susan. People, even the people who send their kids here— aren't always as understanding as you'd think they'd be. But yes, I would have tried and I would have fought for him. I really like Brian and I thought he was an excellent counselor… But you…"

"David, it can't be easy for you to have your best friend suddenly tell you he's gay… and then have a nervous breakdown to boot. You… you tend to hold things in and then you explode."

"And when that explosion is a grand slam home run, it's great, but sometimes, like today…"

"So Jerry and I thought you might want somebody to talk to."

"Sure," Dave sighed. He didn't really want to talk about it, but then he couldn't stop himself. "Brian, he's… he's like my brother from another mother. From the minute we met, it was like — BOOM— like we'd known each other our whole lives. He just understands everything about me. And well, I had no idea either that he was gay. Even if I look back, I mean, maybe something here or there., but otherwise, no."

"So it was a big shock to you. How did it make you feel?"

"Scared. Like how could Brian suddenly just be someone else. Angry, because he never told me. Because I didn't pick up on it. Because it nullified all the things I'd had planned for us— living near each other and our kids would be friends and our wives too and we'd have Christmas at their house and Hanukkah at ours. And scared because I didn't know what it meant, if he was suddenly going to start swishing and lisping and make all these new gay friends who didn't want anything to do with me."

"That's a lot to deal with, David. Have you ever discussed any of this with Brian?"

"How? How could I? He comes out and one week later he's just lying in his bed in a fucking coma, staring out into space and not hearing, not moving, not eating, just staring out like he was a vegetable."

"That sounds very severe David, honey. How did you get him better."

"I don't know. I took him to LA. Made him go running. It releases endorphins. Gave him massages. Kept telling him how much he meant to me, how much I loved him…my parents even helped out. For some reason they picked a good time to remember I existed again…. but— well, that wasn't the worst thing. The worst thing is he told me he was gay before. In high school. He was gay in high school and he did things with guys— he had this friend from high school who was gay too, only they didn't do stuff with each other, just with other guys— and when he got to Lehigh he decided to be straight and well— that killed me, Susan, you know. Like he had this whole life that he never told me about, he, he lied to me about all of it."

"And how did that make you feel? Were you angry at him?"

"No. Well yeah some. And hurt, like I couldn't believe he didn't trust me enough to tell me—"

"But he did tell you. It was even harder for him to tell you after the fact."

"I guess, but still, I keep having to wonder what new thing he's going to spring on me next. And then I feel sad, because it must be so hard for him and I love him so much and I can't do anything to help him."

"And I suspect that's the hardest thing of all for you, David. You like to solve people's problems. Take away their pain."

"He's just so unhappy about being gay. He thinks he's a freak and he's never going to meet anyone. And he goes to these clubs where they have sex and I'm so freaked out about him getting AIDS."

"Does he play safely?"

"Yes, but all it takes is one rip in a condom…"

"It's scary David. But Brian needs to live his life."

"And you need to talk to him. You can't just keep on pretending everything is okay and ignore your own feelings because you're concerned about him."

"I talk to him all the time. I call him almost every night. He's alone at summer school and I don't want him to have a relapse."

"And how's he doing?"

"He's okay. He's studying a lot. But sometimes when he laughs he starts to cry. And that's just on the phone with me. And there were these kids he started to become friends with. And when he told them he was gay, they just dropped him. He was pretty crushed."

"And if you were there, it wouldn't have happened."

"Exactly!"

"But that's not true David. They would have dropped him even if you were there. Maybe not right away, but eventually."

"It's just not fair…"

Susan took his hand in hers. "It's okay David. You're allowed to be angry. This happened to you too. Your best friend turned out to be gay and it's okay for Dave Gold to be angry and hurt and scared for himself, for what happened to him. Not just for Brian."

Dave put his hand over his eyes and started crying. Susan came up behind him and started stroking his shoulder and then Jerry got on the other side of her and stroked his other shoulder.

"I was so scared. Everything was good and then it was all upside down. I kept thinking I'd wake up and it was all a bad dream. And even now, it's like I only have half of Brian. I want the whole Brian back.I miss him. I miss him so much."

"When you get back, sweetheart, talk to him. I know you'll find the right words. But you can't keep pretending everything is perfect."

"Or that your feelings don't count, sport. You've got to acknowledge that you've got skin in this game too. And he will feel better too, to know that he's not the only one having these feelings. Right now, I'm sure he's beating himself up, wondering why he can't be as strong as Dave or worse, wondering why you don't seem to really care."

"Wow… I guess I never really thought of it like that. I just kept thinking I had to be strong for the two of us. Poor Kinney."

"Poor Davey."

"You can be strong David. But you have to allow yourself to accept how you feel and that it's okay to be scared or angry or resentful."

Dave hugged and kissed both of them, tears still flowing down his cheeks. "I am so blessed to have you both in my life. So, so blessed."

"We're the ones who are blessed, David. You are a very remarkable boy—- young man. You are a very remarkable young man."

Mikey tottered through the doors of the tiny Allentown airport and, spotting Brian, ran up to him and threw his arms around his neck.

"Am I glad to see you, Brian. God— I didn't think I was going to make it off that plane alive!"

"Not like flying first class to California?"

"No. More like flying on the Liberty Avenue School Bus."

"But you made it here in 45 minutes rather than spending 8 hours on some Greyhound Bus and that's what's important," Brian said, wrapping his arm around Michael's shoulder. "I get to spend more time with my buddy Mikey."

Mikey beamed and kissed Brian on the cheek. "It sure was nice of Gold to give my mom the money for the plane tickets."

"Dave is good like that."

"So what's been going on Brian? Are you done with your midterms?"

"Yup. Done and aced. There's not much to do here during the week, so I've been studying every night."

"Yeah, you're good at that kind of stuff."

"You could be too, Mikey," Brian said grabbing Michael by the chin and turning him towards him. "I want you to think about going back to school, Mikey. You're better than Q-Mart."

"I will. It's just now I'm able to help Ma out and I don't know what I would have studied anyway."

"Well think about it… and while you're thinking, let me tell you about the amazing weekend I have planned. First, we are heading to New York City, where we can sample all the delights of the gayest metropolis on earth, save maybe San Francisco. We are going to hit the clubs and bars where the most beautiful men on earth hang out."

"Wow. New York City. Where are we going to stay?"

"At the apartment of whoever's fortunate enough to take us home with them for the evening. And if no one is that fortunate, it's only about an hour's drive to get home."

"I still can't believe Gold's parents just gave you his Jeep," Michael said as they reached the parking lot and threw his suitcase into the back seat.

"It's like I said before, Mikey. It's just not that big a deal for them. And besides, I give one hell of a blow job."

"You blew Dave!"

"It was a joke, Mikey. Dave is straight. And even if he wasn't, blowing him would be as strange as blowing you."

"Because you guys are like brothers?"

"Exactly."

"And so Gold is like my step-brother… You know he called me on my birthday?"

"I told you he was a good guy."

"Prince Charming. That's what Ma calls him."

"It's a good name for him. But about our weekend… I thought we would just chill and catch up tonight and then tomorrow we could hit the Big Apple."

"Whatever you want Brian. You're the boss."

"Running? Since when do you go running Brian? You're not turning into a jock on me?"

"I told you, there's not much else to do up here. Might as well stay healthy. I'm even going to start lifting weights when Dave gets back. Give the boys at Babylon something to stare at."

"You already give them something to stare at Brian."

"Well, it couldn't hurt. You want to come with me?"

"No, I think I'll just stay here, watch TV and eat some of the lemon bars Ma sent you."

"Hey," Brian said and grabbed the lemon bar away from Michael. "Those are my lemon bars. You can eat those donuts."

"Fine. Go enjoy your run and getting all sweaty, Mr. College Jock."

"Wow, those shorts really show off your stuff Brian."

"Yeah, I got them at a store in New York."

"So is everyone going to be wearing something like that? Because I only have this one shirt and my jeans."  
"You'll be fine, Mikey. Here— why don't you wear this instead?" Brian tossed Michael his denim shirt with the sleeves cut off.

"You sure, Brian? It doesn't look dumb on me. I'm not built like you, you know."

"It looks fine Mikey. You look hot."

Michaels face exploded into a grin. "You think so? You think I look hot? Well then let's go."

"One second," Brian said and then sprayed them both with a some of the grapefruit scented cologne Dave had given him last year.

It was a gift from Rob Messina, actually— he'd been sending Dave birthday presents for years, something his father's top clients usually did— and Dave thought Brian might want it. "Maybe it'll smell like him dude," he said, handing the bottle to Brian. "Besides, I still have most of the bottle he sent last year."

Brian told the story to Michael, who gaped, open-mouthed, then sniffed his wrist and said "yeah, it's a lot better than Brut. That's for sure."

Rick, Scott and their crew were not at Splash that night. This was their weekend in Fire Island, Brian remembered. So he and Michael took a spot at the bar and drank and pointed out guys they thought were cute and he remembered why he liked having Mikey around. If Dave were here, he certainly wouldn't be pointing out which guys he thought were cute and if he were gay he wouldn't be pointing them out either, he'd be walking up to them and insisting that Brian do the same. It was a lot less stressful to just stand on the sidelines with Michael and watch,

Some older guy had started talking to Mikey, a guy with gray hair and that was Mikey's problem, he was always looking for a father figure, and so Brian ordered himself another drink from the shirtless bartender and stared at his incredible six-pack, when he felt a hand on his shoulder and someone said "He does have some incredible abs. Too bad he's straight."

Brian whipped around to find himself face to face with one of the guys he and Mikey hand been checking out earlier, a very tan guy, probably around 30, by Brian's estimation, around Brian's height, with dark hair and eyes and lean, gym-toned build. "I'm Todd," he said by way of introduction. "You must be new here."

"New to this particular section of this particular bar," Brian countered.

"I see," Todd smiled. "And what is it that brings a boy like you to this particular section of this particular bar?"

"It's summertime and I wanted to see the wicked city first hand. See if I'd get corrupted."

"And have you?"

"Not yet. But no one's really made much of an effort. Or at least not an effort that I've been impressed with."

Brian had no idea where any of that was coming from. He felt like a character in a play.

"I see. Well I've been known to be a first-class corrupter of young men's morals," he said, and ran his finger up and down Brian's chest.

"You tell me that. But how do I know you're being truthful?"

Todd took a step closer to Brian and gently caressed his package through the laces of the football shorts. "What sort of corruption do you like?" he breathed. "I'm pretty versatile with my talents."

"That's good, because I like to stay on top of things."

"Is that up for negotiation?" he asked, caressing Brian's ass.

"No. It's the starting point. How I stay on top of things, that's where I'm happy to get some input."

"A dominant twink," Todd teased. "That could be a lethal combination."

"You'll never know it till you try it," Brian responded and kissed him on the lips. "A sample," he said.

Todd licked his lips. "Well twink has always been one of my favorite flavors," he said. "Let's get out of here."

Brian grabbed Mikey, made plans to meet at a nearby diner the next morning and then jumped into a taxi with Todd, who stroked his leg and played with his cock the entire way downtown.

Todd lived in a nondescript building on White Street in Tribeca, but when they got inside, the loft he lived in took Brian's breath away. It was just so cool, like something from a magazine. It was the sort of apartment Dave would have. If he lived in New York. And cared about things like design.

"This is a great place," Brian said, dropping all pretense of his cool act from the bar. "It's so big."

"I think I'm the one who should be saying that," Todd smirked.

Brian took Todd's hand and rubbed it against his crotch.

"You like it though, Brian? The furniture is all Italian. Direct from Milano. The kitchen all Viking and SubZero. And the bed is the best feature of all. Let me show it to you," he said, leading Brian up a small flight of stairs.

"What's so special about it?" Brian asked as they reached the landing where a king sized mattress, covered in midnight blue satin sheets, sat perched atop a thin wooden frame.

"You're in it," Todd said, pushing Brian down to the mattress. He waited for Brian to look up and smile before sinking to his knees and starting to unlace Brian's football shorts.

Brian fucked him twice over the next few hours, Todd having produced a small canister filled with coke after their first session, something Brian hadn't done since freshman year. After their second session, Todd pulled out a string of anal beads and edged Brian, drawing him to the brink of orgasm and then bringing him back down, over and over again, so that when he came, it felt as if all the energy had been drained from him and promptly fell asleep.

He awoke the next morning to Todd sucking his cock and after they'd fucked one final time, with the anal beads inside him, he collapsed on the bed next to Todd.

"So what do you do, if you don't mind my asking, to afford a place like this?"

"Wall Street," Todd said. "I'm an investment banker. I do a lot of deals in Europe. All those years of French actually paid off."

"Do they know that you're gay?"

"Who's gay?" Todd asked. "I just like to fuck boys sometimes."

Brian wasn't sure if he was serious or joking.

"So you don't tell them?"

"There's nothing to tell. Sometimes I like fucking pretty boys. Sometimes I like fucking pretty girls."

"And what about when the boys fuck you?"

"It's good practice for when I'm on top. Knowing what it feels like to bottom, what feels good— that's important."

Brian still wasn't sure if Todd was joking or not, so he just smiled and said "I guess it would be."

"Next time I am going to tap that beautiful twink ass of yours," he said, giving Brian's ass a firm squeeze.

"How do you know there'll be a next time?" Brian countered.

"There will be. You were having way too much fun."

Brian pulled his clothes on and went downstairs to the kitchen to get some water and shower, even if he was putting his clothes from last night back on.

"So when do you want to see me again?" Todd asked as Brian was leaving.

"I told you, I don't know if I'm going to see you again," Brian said. "But if you want, you can always see me… in your dreams."

"Good one, twinkie boy," he called out after Brian as he descended the stairs. "I like a boy with a little spirit."

Michael had gone home with the gray haired guy, who worked in book publishing and lived in a studio apartment in Greenwich Village. He was impressed that Brian had been able to land a guy like Todd— "that model-y looking guy" was how he'd put it, was impressed with the loft and the way Brian had left things.

"I'm telling you, Brian, you're not just the hottest guy in Pittsburgh, but in all New York City too. You are Brian Fucking Kinney man!"

And he high-fived Brian as they drove back over the George Washington Bridge, the skyline behind them in silhouette.

*****************************************************************************************'

Dave insisted on taking Brian back out to California with him as soon as camp was over. They'd have two full weeks before school started back up again.

Brian welcomed the chance to spend some alone time with Dave and he'd come to appreciate the spoiling he got at Dave's house, how soft and easy life was in Brentwood.

Rob Messina wanted to see him again. Dave had relayed the news on his third night in California: Rob had really liked him and was hoping Brian would want to see him again. Of course he did.

So they met the next night at Ken Gold's house in Malibu, fucking in a room downstairs that overlooked the ocean, while Dave and his father watched the Dodger game on the projection screen TV in the den upstairs.

"I feel like your pimp," Dave said as he was driving them home along the Pacific Coast Highway.

"Well if you won't fuck me, somebody's got to."

"So did he… I mean fuck you?"

"We flip-flopped."

"I take it that means you took turns?"

"Exactly. He's actually a really nice guy."

"He is. A really good guy. But you're still using condoms and you're still not letting anyone who's not Rob fuck you."

"Yes coach."

"Let's go down Mulholland," Dave said. "It's out of the way, but I love this view."

"Sure." The night air was cool and scented with sage and eucalyptus and the lights of the city stretched out below them.

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"What?"

"Doesn't it hurt? Getting fucked, I mean."

"You know, I've been waiting for you to ask me that."

"Oh— am I being uncool?"

"No. It's just that's the first thing everyone who's never bottomed wants to know. I was scared shitless the first time. No pun intended."

"So does it?"

"A little bit. Especially at first. More like a discomfort than an actual pain. But then suddenly that pain turns to pleasure and the whole thing feels really amazing. And with Rob, I trust him, I can let him take control and in your head, surrendering your body to someone like that, it's just so incredible."

"You make it sound like fun."

"It is.… I'd be happy to introduce you to its pleasures."

"I'll take a pass on that. Besides, you'd never be able to go through with it."

"Yeah, why not?"

"Because you'd start and then you'd realize 'ewww, I'm going to fuck my brother.'"

"Probably. But it would be an incredible bonding experience. Taking your man cherry."

"Man cherry!" Dave was laughing. "You are too much Kinney."

"I missed this," Dave said as they got ready for bed that night. "Look at you— you're like a little cat, dude, a skinny little cat, all purring and happy. My little Kinney Cat."

"And you're my great big Davey Bear. I snuggle up against you and everything is all right," he said and spooned himself up against Dave, who wrapped his arm around Brian… "God, Gold, do you know how gay we sound?"

"Worse," Gold said. "We sound like a bunch of 5 year-old girls." They looked at each other and then Dave started laughing and Brian did too, big hearty belly laughs and then giggling and then some big uncontrollable laughs again. And that was the best thing about Dave, that they could laugh together, endlessly, that someone else got what was funny.

"I like that I can be corny around you, Brian," Dave said when they'd finally calmed down. "Like I can be myself, I don't have to be 'Dave Gold' all the time."

"You don't have to be 'Dave Gold' all the time, bro. People would like you anyway."

"Maybe."

"I'm always going to be there for you, David. I'm not leaving."

"You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. Did you really think I would."

"I don't know…. Buddy chat time, Brian…"

Brian turned around so they were facing each other. "What's up?"

"It's just…well you being gay, it affects me too Brian. You know it happened to me too. And we never talked about that part. And dude, I had no idea. When I look back now, I can sort of see some things, here and there. But no, I had no idea. So it was a huge shock, like this person I knew and loved like a brother suddenly wasn't who I thought he was. And then when you told me you'd been gay in high school and done all these gay things with Michael back then, it was like there was some alien in Brian's body, it was like 'who is this guy?' And it hurt me a lot because I felt all alone again, like I'd just made up this Brian Kinney guy and now he peeled off the mask and there was this alien there and it was all a myth… and everything I thought was true, it was just upside down, Brian and we weren't going to get married to two girls who were friends and live in houses near each other and our kids wouldn't be best friends… I mean you lied to me dude— you fucking lied to me for two and a half years."

Brian twisted the pillow and looked Dave in the eye. "I wanted it to be true, Davey, don't you get that. I so much wanted it to be true. I was lying to myself, to Lindsay, to everyone."

"But why didn't you tell me about it? It must have been so scary for you to have that secret."

"Because I thought you wouldn't like me if you knew. I knew I wouldn't like me. And because if I ever said it out loud, I'd realize how futile it was. You can't try and not be gay, it just doesn't work."

"I understand that, Brian. But still, do you realize how much you hurt me, how lied to and deceived I felt? Do you?"

Brian's heart was racing and a cold sweat was pouring down the back of his neck. "I do David. And I'm sorry. Very, very sorry. I also get that you saved my life and that maybe you've just stuck around out of guilt. That you're afraid I'll kill myself if you disappear."

"No. That's not true. I stuck around because I love you. Because no matter how much you hurt me, you're still my brother."

"I'm very sorry if I hurt you David. I love you. I would never, ever want to hurt you. I was being selfish and I guess I didn't believe that anyone could ever care that much about me. Regardless it was the wrong thing to do."

"It hurt me so much, man." Dave was crying now. "I felt so fucking betrayed. And I was so scared for you, that you were going to kill yourself or something and somehow I felt like it was all my fault, like if I'd been less clueless I'd have seen everything and you wouldn't have been like that."

"You can't heal the world Dave. Even a superstar has limit to his powers."

"I can try."

"No. No you can't."

"You lied to me Kinney."

"I did. And I'm sorry about that Dave. I never meant to hurt you. And I'm sorry for being so selfish, for never thinking about how all this affected you." He reached over and stroked Dave's cheek. "You're the only person I ever loved. The only person who's ever loved me."

"It's okay."

"Is it?"

"Yeah," Dave nodded. "I just needed to say it out loud. And to hear you say you understood. We're cool now. I'm sorry if I sounded so harsh— I just needed to get it out of my system, to let you know how I felt, to let you know that you're not alone, that even big bad Dave Gold feels things too."

"You sounded pretty angry..."

"Don't worry, dude. You know me, Bri. I don't hold grudges. But we're cool now. Like two little Fonzies." And he smiled his great big Dave Gold smile at Brian.

"I love you Superstar. I'd never hurt you on purpose."

"I love you too. We'll never lie to each other again, right. No matter how ugly the truth is."

"Never. No matter how ugly or nasty or wrong the truth is." Brian held out his hand so they could do a pinkie swear.

"No secrets. No lies," Dave said, and curled his pinkie around Brian's.

"No secrets. No lies," Brian repeated.

"Good. Now get your skinny little Kinney cat ass over here and let's go to sleep. I'm beat."

"Big strong Davey bear," Brian whispered as he tucked Dave's arm between his and it felt like he'd just had two big shots of Jim Beam, the way the warmth settled in his stomach and the tension started to flow out. "Sweet, soft Davey bear."

Brian saw Rob Messina twice before he left. The second time was an actual dinner date, in Rob's house. Brian rode up in the catering truck, and Caitlyn Jones, the latest actress Rob was allegedly dating drove in through the front gate in her Porsche. The paparazzi were allowed their usual photographs, Caitlyn cooed about how romantic Rob was, and when the paparazzi had left, she thanked Rob, gave him a kiss on the cheek and got in the car with her publicist, laying down on the seat in the back of his SUV, the tinted windows keeping her well hidden.

"A feast for my prince," Rob said when Brian finally came downstairs, dressed in the linen pants and shirt had helped him pick out that morning at Fred Segal in Santa Monica while Dave flirted with some girls he knew from high school in the cafe. "You look hot, buddy."

Brian blushed. He wasn't used to guys calling him hot.

The dinner was the first time he'd actually gotten to say more to Rob than "how does that feel?" and was pleasantly surprised to find he actually liked him. He and Rob had a lot in common: they both came from blue collar families, with fathers who drank a lot and didn't seem to much like them. Rob's mother was a lounge singer who'd encouraged his love of theater, she paid for his dancing lessons, his head shots, drove him to auditions. He'd been just another waiter, waiting for his break when he happened to serve Ken Gold at lunch one day and Ken saw something in him and got him the role on "Class Clowns" and he was lucky that at 21 he could still pass for 16.

They talked about how strange it was to be in a world where everyone was rich and seemed to know all the rules, and to always feel like "everyone is speaking Chinese and all you know how to say is 'ah-so' and everyone knows that's not really Chinese," as Rob put it.

"Take David—" Brian said. "He's this big, amiable goofball, but he always seems to know which fork to use, which jacket to wear… he's always good to me about that though, letting me know what to do without it ever seeming like he's letting me know."

"Funny. His dad's the same way. Ken never made me feel like an idiot, and boy, were there plenty of times when I felt like an idiot."

"So now I know where he gets it from."

"He's a good kid, David. You know Ken feels bad about the way he's treated David," Rob said as they were starting dessert, something called panna cotta that Rob said was sort of like vanilla pudding.

"Sounds like he kind of forgot David even existed," Brian said. "Except maybe when he looked at his checkbook."

"I know," Rob said, wiping his mouth with his napkin. "I'm not saying this to excuse him, but Ken didn't know what to do with a kid on his own. He was trying to make it as an agent and well, Dave was always so self-sufficient, just give him a baseball and he was happy. He always had people around too, lots of friends… but I guess no really close ones."

"No. That's what he says anyway… that I was his only real friend."

"It's true, Brian. I can see the way he looks at you. He loves you. Not like a boyfriend, but you broke through his wall somehow. Dave and Ken are like that. There's this wall, this happy, everybody's buddy, good time Charlie wall, and very few people ever get to see behind it."

Brian smiled and Rob softly caressed his cheek.

"Enough about them though Brian. Why don't we let these nice people go for the evening," he said, motioning to the cater-waiters, "and then I thought we might want to relax in the jacuzzi with a nice fat joint."

Brian spent the night with Rob, they made love again the next morning and as Brian was preparing to leave, in the van the caterers sent to pick up the rest of their gear, the van Caitlyn Jones had arrived in, so she could be photographed leaving the next morning, Rob told him that he was the "sweetest, kindest, funniest, sexiest guy" he'd ever been with and Brian was floating on a cloud the rest of the day.

The remainder of the trip he spent with Dave, and things felt good again. Really good. There was no more stepping on eggshells, no more deep conversations and long hugs. It was like old times. They went to Disney one day, staying until the park closed, going on the roller coasters and even watching the parade. They drove down to San Diego to go to the zoo, and Dave even talked Brian into going to a Dodger game with him, Ken Gold having secured them front row seats on the first base line, right next to the Dodger dugout.

"I'm so glad you came out here, Brian," Dave said as they were getting ready for bed their last evening. "We needed the time to get normal again."

"It was good Dave. I take that back— it was amazing. I'm really happy we did this too… I can't believe we get back tomorrow and then start classes already on Monday."

"I know, dude. We're finally going to be seniors! Kings of the school! I am telling you dude, this year is going to be awesome Kinney! Totally fucking awesome!"

And Brian smiled because, as he'd learned, whenever Dave said something was going to be awesome, it usually was.


	15. Colin

_First semester senior year. Brian finally finds the frat boy of his dreams, the "normal, regular guy" who likes guys but who's comfortable hanging with Dave and the gang. Lots of sex in this on_e.

Dave was really starting to get on Brian's nerves and it was only mid-November. It wasn't any one thing, but rather a combination of small things. Dave was always late for everything and kept making Brian late too. They each had their own Jeep now, but Dave always insisted on driving to school together and then he'd dilly dally and not be able to find his wallet or his house keys and they'd wind up sprinting from the parking lot in order to make it to class on time, which, even more annoyingly, Dave treated like it was a big fun game: could Dave and Brian make it to their 9:05 lecture if they got to the parking lot at 9:01? Four minutes, come on Kinney, we can do this!

There was the fact that Dave wore the same thing every single day now that the weather had turned colder: one of his many Lehigh Baseball t-shirts with a solid color v-neck cashmere sweater over it, jeans and running shoes and, depending on how cold it was, a brown Lehigh Baseball hoodie, a black Patagonia ski jacket or both. He'd even noticed that Dave had a pattern: the camel sweater on Monday, the black one on Tuesday, the navy blue one on Wednesday, the light gray one on Thursday and the dark gray one on Friday.

Dave's friends all dressed the same way too— it was like their uniform, a sea of brown Lehigh sports team hoodies, and maybe his friends went lighter on the sweaters, but they were Northerners and didn't complain about the cold as much as Dave did. Which was another thing. Every morning he'd check the weather and point out that it was 72 degrees and sunny back in LA and what were they doing here in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania freezing their asses off. Something you'd think he'd have gotten over by his fourth year at Lehigh.

Brian had started reading GQ, figuring now that he was gay he ought to know more about fashion and was surprised, but not overly so, to discover that Dave's sweaters, from brands he'd never heard of before— Loro Piano and Pringle— were actually quite expensive. Dave never shopped for himself— the sweaters must have been picked out by one of Ken Gold's assistants, likely the same one who sent a package once a semester with a couple of pairs of designer jeans from Fred Segal, which was the closest Dave ever came to fashionable.

Brian himself had taken to wearing dress shirts with his jeans, started to educate himself about cuts and collars and plackets, only when he explained to Dave one day about the difference between a point collar and a spread collar, Dave had shrugged, and said "Wow, I had no idea there were so many kinds of dress shirts. Glad I'm going to be a doctor— I get to wear scrubs all day."

Brian liked the way he looked in dress shirts, a lot of the girls said they "fit him well", which he supposed was a reference to his slim build, but he knew that no one had ever paid attention to his clothes his first three years, when he dressed in the same uniform Dave did, mostly jeans and t-shirts at first, since he couldn't afford $500 cashmere sweaters, but freshman year Dave would get packages he said were from his mother and since the sweaters and Lacoste shirts were always somehow "Larges" and Dave was a "Medium" he'd give them to Brian, grumbling about how his mother was so clueless she had no idea what size her own son was.

Which was another thing still: Dave meant well, but Brian was getting tired of being the constant recipient of Dave's largesse. He'd hired a cleaning woman to come twice a week without even consulting Brian— he'd come home one day to find a slim, middle-aged Latina scrubbing their toilet— she'd scared the living daylights out of him— and beyond the fact that her name was Marisol, all he got out of her was "Mister Dave say I come clean." Which mostly meant their bathroom was nowhere near as rank as some of their friends and that Brian had to remember to hide the gay porn magazines he'd started buying.

There were the girls too, a constant stream of freshman and sophomores who'd swing by to see if Dave was around, Brian had to turn up the stereo to drown out the sounds of their rutting so he could study and then one night one of them had walked into the kitchen topless to get some ice cubes, "I figured you were gay, so it didn't matter," she'd said over her shoulder to Brian by way of explanation.

Not that Brian's sex life was hurting. He was surprised to find out how many curious guys there were at Lehigh. And so on five different occasions during a frat party, he'd found himself talking to a slightly drunken brother, found the brother responding to "the leg trick," Brian casually letting his leg fall against the other guy's, waiting to see if he'd move it, waiting to see if he'd press back. Those encounters inevitably lead to the guy heading back to Brian and Dave's apartment "to talk" or "to have a few more beers" and then Brian bringing up how many straight guys experimented with gay sex and how it didn't make them gay and a repeat of the leg trick. Sometimes he'd bring out a magazine that "has something for both of us" a girl making out with and sucking off two guys who then wound up sucking each other off. And every time his intuition was right, and when he asked them if they'd ever thought about experimenting, they'd say maybe and when he told them he wouldn't tell anyone, they were up for it.

And he was surprised at how many of them just wanted to blow him, how he'd have to teach them to use less teeth and go slower and use more suction and he'd demonstrate on them and even if the blow job they gave him was nowhere near as good as the one he gave them, taking them down to the root, burying his nose in their untrimmed pubic hair, it was still a lot better than the back room at Babylon.

Only they'd get all freaked out after they came and make him swear not to tell anyone, swear not to tell Dave or their girlfriends and when he'd see them on campus they'd avoid him or act all awkward and then the next party the same thing would happen only without all the game playing, they'd get back to his bedroom and just start blowing each other.

And every time it broke his heart just a little bit, because every time he'd hope, even though he knew it was foolish, that this would be the one, this would be the time the guy, the elusive straight acting gay guy, the one who was just like him, that this would be the time the guy would look up and smile and kiss him and tell him he'd been the one he'd been waiting for and they'd be buddies and boyfriends and they could still hang out with their same old friends and it wouldn't be weird, they'd just drink beer, talk sports, watch the other guys scam on girls and at the end of the night Brian and Owen or Greg or Trip would just go home together, back to their room and they'd make love, like guys, and everything would be cool.

Only it never happened.

At least he got off on those trysts. His trips to Allentown's one sad little gay bar were far less productive. Mostly because Dave insisted on accompanying him every single time. As if it was perfectly normal to go help your best friend cruise for cock. We'll hit the TKE party for a bit, then we'll go to Buddies and if you don't score with a dude, we'll go back to TKE for the after party. 'Kay Superstar?

And Dave meant well, Brian knew he did, only the next day he was sure to be ambushed by no less than a half dozen love-crazed sorority girls, giggling and wide-eyed, with some variation on "I heard Dave went with you to a gay bar last night. He's such a good friend to you Brian. Most guys would never do that. So tee-hee tee-hee tee-hee, did any guys try and hit on him?"

And Brian would restrain himself for the first two, but after that he's just tell them "No, they know I'm the fag."

Which of course backfired because they'd tell him how he "didn't seem gay at all. Like ohmigod! If you didn't tell me, I'd have no idea!" As if that were a compliment. As if it were supposed to make him feel better to learn that he wasn't such an obvious freak.

It wasn't so bad when just Dave went with him. Guys would check Dave out, and while the pickings were slim, he did manage to get a blow job once from a fairly hot Latino guy in the bathroom, the guy had an amazing tongue and he gladly swallowed Brian's load. Which made Brian nervous, even though it was unlikely you could get AIDS from receiving a blow job.

But then one night there were five of them: Dave and Billy DeMiola and Brandon Meyers and Scott Silverman and Craig Gibson. They were all going because they "wanted Kinney to know he still had friends."

And the poor guys at Buddies were completely freaked out, sure that the police had the place staked out, 5 obviously straight college guys, pounding beers by the bar, taking over the pool table, waving over any guy who looked in their direction.

"Hi— you, yeah, you. This is our friend Brian, he's gay. Isn't he a stud? Best looking guy in the place, right."

"—He can lay his own rap, Silverman, stop treating him like he's some freshman pledge."

"—Or Gibson!"

And even Dave looked over and rolled his eyes at Brian, mouthed "sorry dude" and went back to trying to beat Billy at 8 ball.

They'd sort of gotten into a groove, sort of gotten the regulars to get used to them and then Gibson, who was always sort of a wild card, went to take a piss and came charging out of the bathroom, eyes bulging like Don Knotts, screaming out "Holy shit! There's guys sucking each others dicks in there!"

And they all lost it. Dave and Billy were laughing so hard they collapsed on the pool table and everyone was staring at them, staring at Brian, who wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry but when he saw his friends laughing, decided to join them. And then the bouncer came up to them and told them they needed to leave and Dave tried apologizing, tried handing the bouncer $20, $40, $60 but the bouncer was having none of it, he escorted them out as the regular patrons clapped and cheered and Brian knew he'd never be able to go back there again, not for a while, not that it was anything but still it was something.

* * *

Dave took him out to Los Angeles for Thanksgiving. His parents, each finding themselves alone, had decided to have Thanksgiving together and Dave informed him they'd both insisted that Brian be there. After which Dave started to annoy Brian less, and one night, after Brian had been hitting the Jim Beam, which he often needed to do in order to fall asleep, he saw Dave sitting watching the Laker game on ESPN, talking to the TV as if the players could hear him and Brian sat down next to him, threw his arm around Dave and announced "you're my brother from another mother."

"Always, dude, Always. No matter where you are. No matter what you do. You're family… Which is why," he said, making a point of smelling Brian's breath, "I wish you'd stop drinking so much."

"Blue meanies," Brian said and smiled at him.

"I know dude, but there are other ways to combat them. Next time you feel bad, just call me. I'll cheer you up."

"You can't cheer me up as good as Jim does."

"Jim Beam? I bet I can," Dave said and started making funny faces, he stood up and started making monkey noises, scratching himself like an ape, did a bad imitation of the Charleston until finally Brian started laughing.

"I'm glad we're related Davey," Brian slurred and when Dave sat back down, Brian pulled him towards him and gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

* * *

Rob Messina joined the Golds for Thanksgiving. It wasn't a total surprise— Ken had told Dave a week earlier and Dave had passed the news on to Brian. "He really likes you dude. My dad said he pretty much invited himself."

Brian wasn't upset. He liked Rob, liked that Rob thought he was smart and sexy and funny. Liked that he wasn't the only non-Gold at dinner. Liked that Rob and Dave seemed to get along so well, teaming up to gently tease Brian together.

After dinner, he walked out back with Rob, who lead him to the pool house, a little two room cabana at the edge of the property. There was a Murphy bed in it that had been opened and Rob slowly took Brian's shirt and pants off, kissed and licked Brian's naked body, tongued his armpits, his nipples, his balls, his ass, slowly licking up and down Brian's leaking cock, catching the pre-cum on his tongue and kissing Brian to share it. Brian couldn't resist, returned the favor to Rob, licked his armpits, something he'd never had any interest in doing before, but which now seemed incredibly erotic. They didn't fuck this time but slowly took turns blowing and licking each other, building up to an incredible near-simultaneous climax while engaging in a passionate sixty-nine.

And afterwards Rob told him he just wanted "to cuddle with my student prince" and they lay together and kissed and Rob asked Brian if he thought he might move to LA after graduation and Brian said he didn't know, there weren't a whole lot of ad agencies in LA. "I'd be very happy if you were here," Rob said, stroking Brian's face, running his finger along Brian's lips.

"I'll have to take that into consideration then," Brian said and twirled his tongue around Rob's finger.

"I was celibate," Dave announced when Brian returned to the room. Dave was sitting up in his den, playing around with the TV remote.

Brian smiled and sat down next to him. "I wasn't."

"I wish Rob didn't have to hide who he was," Dave said after they'd turned the lights off. "I wish he could just take you anywhere, show you off… I wish it was just normal."

"Thank you Davey, but at some level that's his choice, right?" Brian said.

"I know dude. It's just.. at school… there were a couple of guys, weren't there…"

"You know?"

"I'm not blind, dude. Plus I can tell. You've got a particular "just laid" look... and you know, the walls are pretty thin."

"Oh?"

"It's not like I'd ever say anything to anybody. It's just... I'm just sorry it didn't work out, that none of them were as brave as you are… it'd be nice if you found somebody. "

"You're a good brother David."

"So are you Superstar. I'm proud of you."

"I don't need your pity, Dave."

"I said I was proud of you, Brian. Nothing about pity. Don't sell yourself short."

"I meant about Rob."

"Dude, you're a college senior having an affair with the hottest actor on the planet. That's not exactly something you pity someone about."

"He's going to New Zealand to shoot a movie next month. He said he'd probably be there for a year."

"That sucks dude. Maybe he'll come back for Christmas, you could see him then."

"Look Dave. That's not real. It's just some fantasy I get to reenact every time I'm out here. But it's not real. In every sense of that word."

"I know. I wish it was. You're both good guys. It would—"

"— Be easy for you Dave. I know. Me too. But it's not going to happen, so let's just forget it."

"It will superstar, you'll see— one day it will."

"Well thanks, Coach."

Dave reached out and gently chuffed Brian on his chin. "Wiseass."

"You drive me crazy Gold, you know that? But I love you anyway."

He could hear Dave's breathing grow heavier and speed up.

"Are you crying Davey?"

"You drive me crazy sometimes too Bri. But I love you anyway too. And you know what that means? That we're really brothers. Because that's what brothers do: drive each other crazy."

Brian inched closer to Dave, who pulled him in for a hug.

"You're so much worse than I am, Gold. Mr. Let's Invent New Ways To Be Late For Just About Everything."

"I don't think so, Mr. Oh There's A Reflective Surface, Let Me Check My Myself Out In It."

"Can you tell me about the Dodgers' new third baseman's batting history in excruciating detail. Make sure you don't leave out his on base percentage during his junior year of high school."

"Only if you tell me all about the new campaign for IBM laptops and why the question mark in the headline is so revolutionary and read me the 'brilliant' quote the copywriter's sister's first cousin gave to Adweek."

Dave started tickling him and so Brian retaliated and they were both laughing and then he kissed Dave on the mouth and it felt like kissing Deb, only with less lipstick, but there was nothing even vaguely sexual about it and when they'd stopped laughing and launching sneak attacks on each other, Brian could feel Dave's breath against his hair, smell the mix of his deodorant and his musk and instead of making him feel horny, it made him feel safe and he knew the blue meanies wouldn't dare show their face tonight, not while he was lying there with a smile on his face.

* * *

Colin McGinn was a freshman lacrosse player who was pledging TKE, which is where Brian first met him, at one of the TKE keg parties, the week after they'd gotten back from Thanksgiving. Brian had noticed him around campus before, it was hard not to: Colin stood about six foot four, with broad shoulders, shaggy blonde curls and bright blue eyes. Brian had to try not to stare at him across the cafeteria or walking around campus, but tonight, at the party, he'd already had some "pre-game" shots with Dave and was feeling confident enough to walk right up to him.

Colin had a big smile that lit up his face, he seemed pleased with himself to be talking to a senior and when he said "Oh, I've heard your name— you're Dave Gold's roommate," Brian didn't know if it was more of the usual— being defined in relation to Gold, or whether the unstated subtext was "the gay one" — but either way Colin seemed unfazed.

He was the hottest guy Brian had seen in a while and the blonde stubble on his face, the way his biceps and pecs bulged under his t-shirt, the warmth of his smile, were all giving Brian a major hard on.

Brian steered him to a spot on a couch where they were sitting close together and he tried the leg trick and Colin pressed back, so Brian made sure to touch Colin's thigh when making a point and met no resistance there either.

Which meant it was time to go for broke. "The party's kind of dying out," he said, maintaining intense eye contact with Colin. "Why don't you come over to my place, we can grab a nightcap."

"I don't have a car," Colin said, not breaking their eye contact. "You'll have to drive me."

"That would be my pleasure," Brian said and gave him a lascivious smile that Colin seemed to enjoy.

"So…" Colin said when they got back to Brian and Dave's apartment. "I know you're gay."

"And yet here you are, alone in my apartment with me. Aren't you afraid I'm going to corrupt you?"

"Or maybe I'm hoping you will," Colin smiled. "I've seen you checking me out in the library, in the dining hall. And I've always been curious, what it would be like to, you know, be with a guy. So I figured why not try it with someone who must know what he's doing."

He stood up and peeled off his t-shirt revealing a nicely sculpted chest with big, silver dollar sized nipples and the sort of densely furred armpits that drove Brian crazy.

"You're easy on the eye and you don't act all faggy either. And I bet you give amazing head. So," he said, and unsnapped his jeans and pulled down on the zipper, exposing the top of his fuzzy blonde pubes, "why don't you show me what I've been missing."

Brian looked over at him and laughed. "You think I'm some sorry little cocksucker who's going to be thrilled that some jock is letting me suck on his dick. Let me tell you Colin, I've had about four or five of the guys at that party tonight." He pulled off his own shirt and flexed his pec muscles. "And you know what the first thing they did was? They sucked my cock. Not very well either, but I'm a good instructor and by the end they were some pretty talented cocksuckers. And after I shot my wad in their mouths, then— and only then— did I allow them to experience what an expert blow job felt like. So they could improve their technique for the next time… And there always was a next time."

He shucked his jeans off along with his underwear and walked over to Colin in just his socks, grabbing the tall freshman by the neck and pulling him in for a kiss. He felt Colin's tongue enter his mouth, fight him for dominance, felt Colin's hands exploring his body, and so he grabbed his penis and rubbed it against Colin's thigh, reached up and ran his thumb over Colin's nipples, ran his fingers through the fur underneath Colin's arms and then and slowly pushed him down to his knees, smiled in delight at the way Colin insisted on licking his way down Brian's chest and his belly.

When Colin was on his knees Brian grabbed his penis by the base and rubbed it against Colin's mouth, tracing his lips with it, teasing him with it, telling him "now I'm going to teach you how to suck cock like a good little frat boy, Colin. Open wide," and when he did, Brian inched his cock in and told Colin to "lick it with your tongue. That's right, all around the head, like it's a lollipop," and Colin did so, eagerly and Brian pushed in more and told him to cover his teeth with his gums and tighten his lips over around it.

"That's it dude. Just relax your throat, take me deeper. Now more tongue, up and down," and they kept at it, Colin was playing with Brian's balls, and so after five minutes Brian was close, he warned Colin he was close, but Colin just sucked harder and when he said "I'm going to cum" Colin sucked harder still, ignoring Brian when he said "If you keep this up, I'm going to cum in your mouth, you silly little twat." And when Brian shot a huge load in his mouth, Colin looked up at him and made sure Brian saw him swallow it, then stood up and kissed Brian, deeply, and Brian could taste himself on Colin and he almost came a second time.

And then they heard a car door slam outside the apartment, heard Dave's booming laughter and a girl giggling in response and they grabbed their clothes from the floor and disappeared into Brian's bedroom. Where, once Dave and that evening's conquest— Brian could tell he'd forgotten her name— had headed into Dave's bedroom, Brian proceeded to explore every inch of Colin, devouring his armpits, his nipples, his balls and then finally his large thick penis, offering instruction on what he was doing, which was reinforced by the writhing Colin was doing in response and even though he knew it was unwise, he swallowed Colin's load in return, letting some of it drop onto the freshman's hard abs before licking it up. It was the first time he'd ever swallowed another guy's load and the taste was nowhere near as bad as he'd expected, in fact, it was almost kind of good.

Instead of freaking out, the way most of the "straight" boys did, Colin kissed him deeply, told him that he was "amazing" and started a round of foreplay that lead into a sixty-nine, followed by another break and another sixty-nine. And he fell asleep, his head on Brian's chest, looking like a cherub, Brian thought, with his blonde curly hair and alabaster skin and sweet blue eyes.

The next morning they woke up to the sound of Dave and his guest from the night before arguing in the kitchen.

"You don't even know my fucking name, do you?"

"Jessica. Right?"

"Not even close. You're an asshole, you know that?"

"Look— you got what you wanted, didn't you? You got to fuck Dave Gold and now you can go back and brag about it to the other Tri-Delts."

"That's—thats—-"

"What? You knew exactly what you were getting into… I tell you what? Tell me your name and when I see you at lunch, I'll be sure to say hi to you and give you a big smile."

"You know, you're an even bigger, more conceited asshole than everyone says you are."

"Why? You got what you wanted. You even came."

"I was faking it. You're not that good."

"I'm damn good. And you're not that good an actress. Besides, you kind of sprayed."

Brian and Colin tried to stop themselves from laughing, but even with their hands over their mouths, the walls in the apartment were too thin.

"Is that Brian in there? I hope the guys you date treat you better than your roommate treats the girls he dates."

"I don't date guys like Dave," Brian responded. "And if all I want to do is fuck someone, I don't really care whether or not they remember my name."

"You know, you're gross too, Brian. Of course you stick up for him. All you guys do, it doesn't matter if you're gay or straight. And another thing— you better not tell anybody about that David. Or I swear I will have all three of my brothers down here to kick your skinny little ass."

"Well how can I tell anybody if I don't even know your name?"

"Amy!" she shouted slamming the door behind her. "My name is Amy!"

Dave waited till he heard her car door slam shut and the engine start before he said "You know what her name is from now on, Kinney, don't you? Spray-me!"

Brian and Dave both burst out laughing. "Spray-me!" Brian gasped and grabbed onto Colin to steady himself, he was laughing so hard.

"How perfect is that, Kinney," Dave said and then burst through the door, his hand extended for a high-five. "Oh… Colin… Hi… I see that even for a freshman, you have excellent taste in men."

Colin looked as if he was staring down the barrel of a gun, his pale skin blushed bright red and sweat beaded on his forehead.

"Colin, buddy," Dave said, squatting down next to him and taking his hand. "No one is every going to hear about this from me if you don't want them to. Brian and I don't have secrets from each other, but I would never, ever, ever, tell anybody you were with him. Okay?" He grabbed Colin's chin and forced him to make eye contact. "I know this isn't easy and it sure as hell is confusing and all but I swear to you, no one will ever know you are here. At least not from me."

"Dave is cool, Colin," Brian said, stroking the freshman's hair. "He's the last person in the world who'd ever out you."

Colin exhaled deeply and his color started to return to normal.

"I"m really happy that a stud like you is hooking up with my best friend, bro. You're a great guy… And besides, if you spray when you cum, it's a good thing, right?"

Colin chuckled a little, but he still looked somewhat unconvinced.

"Hey, I need to go to the library, anyway," Dave said. "I'm just going to shower up and get going— I'm going to meet DiMiola so we can study for the organic chem final."

"There's two words you rarely hear together," Brian smirked. "DiMiola and study."

"It's actually good," Dave said, pulling off his t-shirt. Brian watched Colin intently checking out Dave's hairy chest. "I have to explain everything to him and it helps me understand it better…. anyway dude, I'll catch you for dinner. You guys have fun. And Colin— stop worrying— it's all good."

Brian was toying with Colin's penis the entire time Dave was showering and getting dressed, it was the largest one he'd ever had his hands or his mouth on and the thought of having Colin inside him was definitely turning him on. But he wanted to be inside of Colin first, the freshman's ass was amazing, tight and round, with just a little bit of blonde fuzz in the crack and Brian always amazed himself with how much more forward he could be with guys than he'd ever been with girls.

"Why don't we hit the shower ourselves," Brian suggested once Dave was gone. Brian wasted no time in soaping up Colin's ass, toying with the hole, making sure it was squeaky clean, before dropping to his knees to lick it. Colin moaned with appreciation and Brian stroked his big cock while he licked at his hole, letting the stubble on his chin graze the tender skin, sticking his tongue in as far as it would go. He reached up to grab the soap and gently inserted a soapy finger into Colin, the boy was so tight, Brian doubted he'd ever had anything up there before, so he turned him around and started blowing him, trying to get as much of Colin's cock in his mouth as he could, fighting his gag reflex as the flared head slid past his tonsils, sliding a second and then a third finger inside Colin's warm ass.

When he thought Colin was ready, he stood up and rubbed his own hard cock up and down along Colin's crack. "I want to fuck you so bad," he whispered into Colin's ear as teased his hole with the head of his cock, letting it slide in just a little and then rubbing it up and down the crack.

"No," Colin breathed. "No, Kinney."

"I know, we'll go in the bedroom and get a condom and some lube," Brian said, licking Colin's ear. "I always play safe."

"No, Brian, no," Colin said and spun away from him. "I don't do that."

"What?"

"Fuck or get fucked."

Shit. Another deluded closet case who thought that giving blow jobs was somehow less gay than fucking. "You're going to deny me that beautiful ass of yours?" Brian pleaded. "That ass is like a Greek statue, McGinn. You've already had my tongue and my fingers up there. So you're not a virgin anymore. And if you liked the way my fingers felt against your prostate— that little button in there that made you jump every time I touched it— just wait till my cock finds it." He leaned forward to kiss Colin, but he turned away.

"No Brian. No fucking. We can suck and finger and everything else you want, but no fucking. I'm not ready for it yet."

"You're right, Colin. It might make you gay," Brian told him. "If you stick to blow jobs, you're technically still a heterosexual. It's in the handbook under 'U' for 'up the butt.'"

"It's not that bro. I'm just not ready for it yet. You're the first guy I've ever been with. I just want to take it slow. If it's still feeling right, I'll definitely give it up to you. And then fuck the shit out of you with this," he said, taking Brian's hand and putting it on his still-hard penis. "I'm worth waiting for Kinney. You know I am," he added and pulled Brian towards him, thrusting his tongue in Brian's mouth, while he reached down and gently stroked Brian's cock.

"You better be worth waiting for," Brian told him as he broke the kiss.

"Oh don't you worry, Kinney," he said, turning Brian around and rubbing his big fat cock against Brian's soapy crack. "Think of how amazing it's going to feel when that's inside you." He grabbed his cock and rubbed it over Brian's anus, parting the lips gently with the head and then pulling out, a little farther each time until the head popped in and Brian gasped. Colin pushed further in and Brian thought he was going to start fucking him, but he pulled out and rubbed it against Brian's crack and started to push down on Brian's shoulders.

"It doesn't work like that, boy," Brian whispered. "You don't give up your ass, then you've got to give up your mouth." And he pushed a very non resistant Colin down to his knees where he demonstrated what he'd been taught during the previous night's lessons and proved himself to be a very fast learner

Colin showed no sign of leaving afterwards, he followed Brian back into the bed and they lay there kissing and stroking each other, Colin even let Brian lick out his armpits and returned the favor as they came just from grinding their cocks together.

He was still there when Dave came home from the library with a pizza, happily joining them for dinner and when he went to the kitchen to get some more water, Dave waggled his eyebrows at Brian and made a motion with his index finger, pushing it in and out of a fist he'd made with his other hand.

Brian rolled his eyes at Dave and then Colin turned around and caught them. "Dave was just asking me, in his inimicably mature fashion, if we'd been fucking each other today Colin."

Colin turned beet red.

"Unfortunately, Dave, the answer is 'no.' Colin here is not ready to engage in anal sex. He's afraid that butt fucking might turn him into a raging homosexual so he has been denying me this incredibly shapely ass," Brian said, running his hand over Colin's ass, which was encased in a pair of Brian's basketball shorts which were way too small on him and only accentuated his firm bubble butt.

"I'd say that's a wise move, Colin," Dave countered. "How do you think Brian here became gay? Butt fucking. He innocently let some guy slide his dick up in there one night on the mistaken notion that it might 'feel good' and the next morning he was a flamer."

"It's true," Brian nodded

"You don't know how careful I have to be around here, McGinn. He's always rubbing up against me, trying to get my dick to slide inside him. I have to keep my door locked at night so he doesn't sneak in and try and turn me while I'm sleeping."

"We're sort of like vampires," Brian added. "Only craftier."

"I— I think I'd better be going now," Colin mumbled.

"Dude, dude, we're just playing with you," Dave said. sliding another slice of pizza onto Colin's plate. "I'm sorry if we got out of line."

"You've upset my guest David. Look at the poor boy, he's barely eaten," Brian said, and then kissed Colin on the lips. "Seriously, I'm sorry— we did get out of line. And even if it doesn't seem that way, I do understand how you feel. It took me a long time to get up the courage to fuck a guy and even longer to work up the courage to get fucked. And I wish both times were with someone I cared about, not just a hot trick. It's a big psychological barrier and I totally understand— I'd be worried more if you didn't hesitate. And don't forget- I may be a fag, but I'm still a guy— it's my job to try."

"That part's true McGinn— I mean I know I always have to at least try to fuck the girl. They kind of expect it."

"They expect it from you, Gold," Colin laughed. "You've got quite a reputation."

"And yet they keep lining up for more, so he must be doing something right," Brian laughed. "Though what they see in an uncouth lug like Gold is beyond me."

"You guys are so funny," Colin said. "It's so fucking great that you're so cool with him being gay and all. Like you guys even joke about it."

"Brian is like my brother, Colin. As long as he's happy, I'm happy. And right now you seem to be making him very happy."

"I know, dude. Brian's a great guy. And sexy as hell too," he added, kissing Brian full on the lips. "But I just can't see any of my boys being cool with me being a fag."

"But you can't help what you are, Colin. You like dick. Fuck them if they can't deal with it. That's what I told Brian and his real friends stuck with him."

"I don't know if I only like dick. I like pussy too. I've fucked plenty of girls. This— this is all new to me."

"So then roll with it dude. Brian is smart, funny, sexy, cool— fuck if I was gay, I'd be all over him."

"Yeah, but you're not, so I get to be all over him," Colin said and reached around Brian from behind, running his hands under his t-shirt and roughly fingering his nipples, all the while meeting Dave's eyes with a defiant stare.

"Well you boys go and take care of that," Dave smiled. "I'll clean up from dinner."

Colin had Brian's t-shirt off, licking at his nipples when they heard Dave start blasting a CD from a new bad called Counting Crows and singing along, somewhat off-key.

"Walls here are pretty thin," Brian said, and grabbed Colin's blond curls, pulling him in for another kiss.

* * *

He saw Colin almost every night right up through Christmas break. He was a great guy in addition to being great in the sack, the normal straight-seeming jock that Brian never thought he'd find, the boyfriend who could hang with Dave, Billy and the boys and fit right in. They found they had a lot in common, too— alcoholic fathers, holier-than-thou mothers and Colin was considering going into advertising as well, his uncle owned one of the largest agencies in Baltimore, where he grew up. Brian couldn't wait to see Colin when he woke up in the morning, couldn't wait to be alone with him, couldn't believe how good he was feeling, couldn't believe how many times he'd come close to saying "I love you," to him.

The night before Colin was due to leave for Christmas break, he showed up with a bottle of wine, a thick joint and a small rectangular package with Christmas paper on it, a gift for Brian.

"I got you something too," Brian said, and handed Colin a small jewelry box. It was a gold lacrosse stick to go on the chain Colin sometimes wore around his neck. Dave had gone with him to the jewelry store in the nearby mall to pick it out.

"Dude, this is awesome!" Colin smiled, "I love it," and he kissed Brian deeply. "Now open mine," he said, sliding the charm onto his necklace.

Brian ripped the package open. It was two bottles of Fleet's Enema. Brian stared at them, confused, and then a sly smile spread across his face.

"Merry Christmas, baby," Colin said to Brian, sliding his arm around Brian's waist. "You've waited long enough."

Brian kissed him deeply, pulling his shirt off in the process, but Colin stopped him. "Let's smoke this first bro," he said, pulling out the joint. "And then we can make use of our presents."

It was the first time Brian had ever made love to another man, what he'd done with Rob was just two friends fucking, this, he realized, was making love. He took a long time preparing Colin, using his tongue and his fingers, sliding in gently, making sure Colin was enjoying it, talking him through the initial pain, kissing and licking him throughout, staring into his eyes while he was slowly sliding in and out of him, using his hand to guide Colin to an orgasm before he let himself come.

And then they kissed and snuggled and rested and then it was Brian's turn, Colin repeated the same routine on him, tongue and fingers and even a small butt plug Brian had bought in an adult book store near Allentown on the off chance they ever got this far. And when Colin entered him he was ready for it, felt full, felt stretched, felt loved, and Colin proved to be a gentle lover, aware of his size, waiting until Brian had fully acclimated before picking up the pace and Brian came without touching himself, screaming Colin's name so loudly that Dave heard him over the music blasting through his headphones.

They collapsed on the bed, laughing and gasping and kissing and then Brian grabbed Colin's face, looked him right in the eyes and said "I love you, Colin Patrick McGinn" and Colin kissed him and said "I love you too, Brian Aiden Kinney" and Brian told him about how he'd been waiting so long to find someone like him, a regular guy who also liked guys, a guy who could hang with his friends and be normal and not all faggy and Colin cried and said he'd been so scared he'd never find that either, that he'd be stuck forever with a bunch of lisping pansies and ugly nerds, never thought he'd find someone as cool as Brian and then they started kissing again and then Brian was inside Colin and Colin was inside Brian and they slept and fucked four more times that night and when they realized they were out of condoms for the last go round, they went in bareback because they were so in love and because Brian figured Colin was a virgin and Rob always wore a condom and he needed him desperately and it was so incredible feeling Colin against his skin, feeling Colin cumming inside him. And they kissed and they clung and said "I love you, bro" until Colin had to leave for the airport and then Brian returned to the sheets, smelling like Colin and cum and slept until 2 in the afternoon.

When he finally stumbled out, Dave was going to tease him about the loud lovemaking the night before, but when he saw Brian, something stopped him, he just took Brian in his arms and held him and whispered "I am so happy for you bro. So happy for you" and when they laid down on the couch to watch TV, Brian laid on top of Dave, his head on Dave's chest and during one of the commercials he looked up at Dave and said "my ass is so sore," and Dave said "oh you silly faggots," because he didn't know what else to say, and Brian shook his head at Dave with a goofy happy smile and Dave smiled back because Brian was happy and the next morning they drove out to Newark Airport and caught a flight back to Los Angeles.


	16. Malibu Davey

_Brian spends Christmas break with Dave's family in LA and discovers some surprising things about himself as he learns to become a man._

"So tell me about this new boyfriend, Brian. David says he's 'a nice guy', but I'm never going to get any good dirt from him."

They were sitting at the table in the kitchen in Brentwood, eating the sushi Dave had picked up earlier at his mother's behest. Brian wasn't too sure about sushi— he'd only eaten it once before, when he and Lindsay had gone into New York for the day, but he was doing his best to pretend to know what to do with the pieces of raw fish that Dave was shoveling into his mouth.

"Leave him alone Mom," Dave sighed. "We brought the food in so we could eat dinner in peace." Or, Brian thought, because Dave somehow guessed that Brian would be uncomfortable in an actual sushi restaurant.

"It's not like it's getting cold, Davey. So tell me Brian," she said, leaving a piece of spicy tuna roll dangling from her chopsticks as she leaned in towards him, "What's his name?"

"Colin," Brian said, smiling softly. "Colin McGinn."

"And what does he look like?"

"Mom!"

"I'm happy he's found someone he seems to like. The two of you were so worried he'd never meet anyone… so what does this Colin McGee look like?"

"McGinn, Mom. McGinn."

"It's okay Dave," Brian smiled. "It's okay." He turned his attention to Barbara Gold. "He's taller than me, about six foot four—"

"About, Kinney? Last week you told me he was six foot four and a quarter."

Barbara rolled her eyes at Dave and Brian grinned back at her. "He's six foot four and a quarter. He weighs about two twenty. Blonde curly hair down to around here," Brian gestured to a spot on his neck just above his shoulders. "Big blue eyes. Great definition, especially his pecs… He's a lacrosse player." "Oh they're cute! Is he hung?"

"Mom!"

"He's huge," Brian said, smiling broadly.

"No wonder you're so smitten."

"That's not his only attraction," Brian chuckled. "He's very intelligent and kind and good to me."

"As he should be, Brian. You're a real catch. Such a handsome, ambitious, kind-hearted boy. And those eyes… how could anyone resist those eyes?" Brian was beaming. "So where is he from?"

"Baltimore. Well, from a suburb just outside Baltimore— Towson."

"Very nice. And what do his parents do?"

"His father is a lawyer. His mom doesn't work."

"Oh, a lady of leisure," she said and gently elbowed Brian.

"And what are you, mother, a construction worker?" Dave frowned.

"I'm an actress, David. A working actress."

"Oh."

"Don't get smart with me. There aren't very many roles for a woman my age. Even Academy Award winning actresses my age have trouble getting work."

"You never told me your mom was an actress, Dave."

"'Cause she's not?"

"Don't listen to him, Brian. I worked very extensively before he was born and then when he was little, too. I was in seven movies, with speaking parts in four of them, and I was a regular on the Morton Moss Show— I played his daughter's best friend Becky."

"I can't believe I've known you for four years and you never told me that— brother," Brian said, playfully punching Dave in the arm. "I used to watch the Morton Moss Show when I got home from school. It was on in reruns. I can't believe that was you. Becky was always scheming up ways to get out of doing chores. And Morton Moss was so funny. "

"Gay as a blade."

"Morton Moss was gay?"

"Very. So many actors are, Brian. Any creative field. Look at you— you're a writer. I've been around gay men all my life, sweetie. We're always on the same wavelength—they love me and I love them. It's why you and I are so simpatico."

"Well I'm glad you passed that on," Brian said, nodding at Dave.

"He's got a big heart. He always did. Even as a little boy, if another child liked one of his toys, he'd try and give it to him."

"I did that exactly once." Dave mumbled.

"You did that more than once, David. You're very generous person and I've always been very proud of you for that. I love you, you know," she said and kissed him on the cheek.

"Me too," Brian said, and kissed Dave on the other cheek.

"We're embarrassing him, Brian" Barbara said, winking. "Double teaming him like that— see, I know my gay lingo. Or is that double penetrating…?"

"Please quit while you're ahead, mother."

"I still can't believe you used to be Becky," Brian said, shaking his head.

"I can show you pictures. Here," she said, taking Brian's hand. "Come with me."

Brian had never actually been to the bedroom wing of the upstairs before. He was surprised to find that there were actually four unused (but fully furnished) bedrooms in addition to the one Barbara used. She steered him to another room that was set up as an office, with an feminine looking wooden desk and built in bookcases along three of the four walls.

"This was the publicity photo they used to give out," she said, pointing to a framed photo on the wall. "Barbie Harris as Becky Welsh" was written in a very 1960s typeface beneath a photo of a twenty-something Barbara Gold, decked out in a sleeveless pink turtleneck, psychedelic print miniskirt and go-go boots, her hair styled into a flip, like Marlo Thomas in That Girl.

"You were beautiful, Barbara," Brian exclaimed. "I mean of course you still are, but I had no idea what an incredibly sexy twenty-two year old you were. Mom was a babe, Dave."

"See," she giggled. "This is why I love the gay boys. They know how to make a woman feel good about herself… This was me in Moonlight in Venice," she said, pointing to a color photo, a still from a movie, that also hung on the wall. "I was an Italian contessa who Paul Foreman flirted with in a restaurant while he was waiting to meet a Russian spy."

"Barbie Harris as Contessa Vittoria D'Abruzzi," Brian read aloud.

"That was my stage name— Barbie Harris. My real last name is Hecht, but they all thought Harris sounded better."

"Is that why Dave's middle name is Harris?"

"Exactly. Well that, and after my grandfather, Herschel. His Hebrew name is Dovid Chaim."

"And who's this bikini babe?" Brian asked, stopping in front of the third picture on the wall.

"That was me in Nightmare on Neptune Beach. I was still in high school when I made that movie. My father's driver would have to pick me up in front of Beverly Hills High School and take me to the set.. It was a cheesy horror movie, but I had a speaking part and for a 17 year old high school senior, it was a very big deal. I was so naive… it's a good thing my father had business sense. He hired a hotshot young agent for me, some guy who'd been my brother's friend back in high school. You know who that agent was, Brian?"

"Who?"

"Ken Gold," she said, motioning at Dave with her neck. "Twenty-seven years old, fresh out of law school, I thought he was so sophisticated, so connected… So full of shit, is what he was."

"Stop, mom."

"Well he was," she said and shut the light as she ushered Dave and Brian back to the kitchen.

*********************************************************************************

"Your parents are named Ken and Barbie, Gold? That's so funny," Brian said as soon as they were safely ensconced in the downstairs den. Dave had opened up the mini-fridge and gotten them each an airline bottle of Ketel One vodka and a Corona Light.

"You've never figured that out Kinney? Why do you think everyone from high school calls me Malibu Dave?"

"I thought it was because your Dad lives there."

"Nope. Ken and Barbie's little boy, Malibu Dave. Complete with action Little League uniform. Pull his arm back and he hits a home run every time. And look at how cute he is. The perfect little boy for the perfect couple."

"You don't have to be perfect Dave," Brian said and squeezed Dave's forearm. "Not for me, anyway."

Dave threw his arm around Brian and pulled him in for a hug "That's what I love about you gay boys. You know how to make a guy feel good about himself."

Brian laughed. "You're a nut, Davey," he said, and hooked his arm over Dave's shoulder so they were even.

"How come you lived down here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well you have all those bedrooms upstairs. Didn't you want to be close to your mom?"

"Not really," Dave said, turning to face Brian. "I think the actual reason for having me down here is that she was dating back then and didn't want me to see her boyfriends if they stayed over. So I was down here with Carissa— this was her room," he said, motioning to the den.

"She's the one from the Philippines you still write to?"

"Yup. She went back to Manila to live with her daughter when I was 14. After that it was just me down here."

"I would have thrown some sick parties here if it was me."

"I had a couple. People used to come here a lot just to hang out, you know it wasn't like they had to worry about running into anyone's parents if they were drinking or getting stoned or doing coke . And it was a good place to take girls— no one would burst in on us while we were jerking off to pictures of Patrick Swayze."

"I can't believe you remember that story," Brian said, shaking his head at Gold.

"It's seared into my brain… So about Colin… you know at first, I thought it'd be weird you having a boyfriend and all, but he's such a sweet kid and I'm just so happy you found someone, you know normal… like he fits in with me and you and Billy and Scott and Brandon, you know?"

Brian just smiled to himself contentedly.

"When is he going to come out, by the way, so I don't keep on having to pretend I barely know him."

"Soon, I think. He gets super anxious whenever I bring it up to him. He says he's not ready yet."

"Maybe he's not. Not everyone is as brave you are."

"You keep telling me I'm brave, Gold. I just see it as honest."

"Well then not everyone's as honest as you are, B. Or as kind-hearted."

"Do you really think I'm kind hearted, Davey?"

"You have one of the biggest hearts of anyone I know Brian. Why do you get all embarrassed about it? Do you remember freshman year, when I had that stomach virus and you went to all my professors and got the assignments and typed them up and you'd take the Jeep and go into town to get me soup every day and toast cause you didn't want me eating the crap from the dining hall… I was so touched, dude. That's when I knew that what I was feeling about you— that we were bonded somehow— that it was real."

Brian was grinning from ear to ear and he hugged Dave tighter. He remembered how grateful Dave had been, how good it had felt to feel that.

"Did someone used to tell you otherwise, Bri?"

"My mom. She'd always tell me I was a selfish bastard because I'd rather study than go to church with her. And then she'd castigate me for allegedly thinking I was better than everyone else."

"Well fuck her Brian. I mean how dare she tell you that. You— Bri, the thing I admire the most about you is how you picked yourself up from out of there. That is so fucking amazing to me dude. I mean I can't even imagine, Kinney. I'm just some dumb jock from the Lucky Sperm Club. But you… you went to some crap public school where the guidance counselor didn't know all the damn admissions directors. You did that all by yourself. And that is why you are such a superstar."

"You're not a dumb jock, Gold. You're one of the smartest people I know. Especially with math and science."

"You think?"

"Yes, Scarecrow, I do think you have a brain. A perfectly good one."

"And you have a heart Tin Man," Dave said, pulling Brian in for another hug. "A really big one."

Brian would call Colin every night before dinner, given the time difference. Colin was having a good vacation, all his cousins were in for Christmas and the house was full, so he didn't have a lot of privacy. They'd agreed beforehand on a code: "1-2-3" meant "I love you" and "I love KFC" meant "I love Kinney's Fucking Cock." Colin would tell Brian all about the things he'd done with his cousins every day: mostly playing football and Monopoly and Brian would tell him all about the things he'd done with Dave and his family. Sometimes Brian would describe, in graphic detail, what he'd do to Colin's ass if his strapping boyfriend were in bed with him, and Colin could only grunt along, occasionally remarking on how much he loved KFC or missed it.

"My cousin Kevin wants to know why I'm so into KFC, why do I always talk about chicken on the phone."

"So you should tell him you're not talking about chicken, you're talking about cock. Your boyfriend's big fucking cock."

"It's not as big as mine."

"But it's used far more skillfully."

"We'll see about that. You're the one who can ride his bike hands free."

"I think that says more about me than about you. My prostate is just more in tune with our lovemaking than yours is."

"Maybe, we'll have to see."

"So are any of those cousins as hot as you are?

"A couple. But they aren't Orioles fans."

"Well you should try and convince them they need to start rooting for our team."

"And you should convince old Davey."

"Would you like to do him?"

"I mean if you weren't around. I mean if you didn't exist, not just if you weren't around."

"I'm afraid he's a die-hard Dodgers fan."

"That's too bad. Hey— listen, my grandma needs to use the phone now. I'll talk to you tomorrow buddy, okay? Hey — 1, 2,3"

"I love you too Colin. And I wish my dick were buried deep inside your ass right now."

"Same here dude."

"It will be. Soon. Goodnight. Colin, I love you. Talk to you tomorrow.

"1-2-3, dude. 1-2-3."

Brian hung the phone up and grinned, let himself feel the cool air on his skin, the smell of the eucalyptus trees in Dave's backyard, the sounds of the birds and the gurgling of the pool filter, the way his heart swelled when he thought about Colin.

"Good call?" Dave asked when he walked back into Dave's den.

Brian just smiled in return.

"Look at you, all happy and in love,"

"So why are you beaming?"

"I'm happy that you're happy. Would you rather me be upset about it?"

"No.. I'm just not used to it."

"What, being in love?"

"Yeah,"

"Well, I've never experienced it myself, but you're making it seem pretty great."

"It is and you will. And the girl you fall in love with is going to be the luckiest girl that ever lived."

"Well don't you just say the sweetest things, Mister Brian," Dave said in a mock Southern accent. "Go lay on the bed and purr to yourself like a little Kinney-cat. I'm going to go upstairs and see what the story is for dinner."

Brian lay back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, watching the fans spin lazily. Maybe he wasn't a freak after all. Or maybe he'd just found the one other freak who was just like him.

Brian was hanging out by the pool. Dave had gone to play golf with some of his high school buddies— he'd kept trying to talk Brian into it, telling him that he could walk the course with them and even take some putts for him, but Brian was still a little jet lagged and wanted to work on his tan.

"Brian! There you are!" Barbara startled him, he hadn't realized she was still home. "David said you were out by the pool. He called to say they were eating lunch at Hillcrest and he'd be back around 3. So I was wondering if you wanted to go into Beverly Hills and do some shopping with me. We could get a bite to eat."

"So am I going to be the daughter you never had?" Brian teased.

"I didn't ask you because you're gay," she said, slapping his arm. "I just thought you'd be bored. It's like this all year round here, I forget what a novelty it is for East Coast people."

"I'm just teasing, Mother Gold. I'd be delighted to go."

"Mother Gold!" she laughed. "But listen— you call me that in public, I'm sending you back to the adoption agency."

"Very well then, Barbara." Brian smiled and stood up to shake her hand.

"Mom works too… but I like Barbara. They'll all think I have a hot young boyfriend… I like that!"

Barbara had Brian drive her car, a white BMW 7-series, down into Beverly Hills, where she told him to valet it at the Chanel store. "I'll handle this," she whispered.

"This is Davey's college roommate Brian," she said, introducing Brian to the handsome blonde parking attendant. "This is Kyle. We're going to do some shopping, maybe not here, but we'll be back in about two-three hours."

Brian saw twenty dollars disappear into Kyle's hands. Then he did a double take. Kyle was a dead ringer for Kip Hardman, a popular gay porn star. He and Michael had watched one of his tapes once. Kyle shook Brian's hand and Brian made sure he kept the shake too long, rubbing his thumb across Kyle's palm as they broke contact. Kyle winked at him in return.

"Come Brian," Barbara said, grabbing his wrist. "There's a chair in that store across the street I've been looking at. I wanted to get your opinion."

Brian winked back at Kyle and continued down the block, Barbara's hand still on his wrist. Tourists were looking at Barbara, in her black leather pants, high heeled boots, black, white and red patterned Missoni shawl sweater and and oversized sunglasses to see if she was someone they should know, not just another wealthy Westside wife.

"Recognize him? He's a big gay porn star," she said once they were across the street.

"Kyle?"

"Yes. A big coke head too. That's why he's happy to take twenty dollars to watch my car all day. And a thousand dollars to scream while he takes a dick up his ass on camera."

"But at least he's got a speaking part," Brian quipped.

"You are hilarious!" she said and kissed him on the cheek. "Davey always said how funny you were, but I never saw it until now. I'm so glad you're finally opening up to me."

"It's like Jane Goodall and the apes," Brian said, grinning. "I'm finally getting used to you."

After they'd looked at the chair Barbara had wanted to see— Brian liked it, but with the darker upholstery the clerk had recommended— Barbara steered him into the Giorgio Armani store.

"Ah.. Signora Gold!" A slender brunette with a ponytail and black glasses hanging from a chain around her neck came running over to her and air kissed her on both cheeks. "This is the young man?" she asked in a slight Italian accent.  
"You told her about us, dear?" Brian asked, taking Barbara's hand.

"He is such a hoot!" she said to the woman. "For three years he's in my house, a quiet little mouse and today I find out he's a closet comedian!"

The woman smiled. "Hi Brian, I am Illaria," she said, offering her hand. "Your, um, 'friend' here says you are going to be interviewing for jobs in advertising agencies soon and you need some suits."

Brian was dumbfounded. This was Giorgio Armani. The suits here cost thousands of dollars. Where was he going to get that kind of money?

"Just try them on," Barbara said, sensing his unease. "You'll see how you like them and then you can decide."

Illaria put her hands on Brian's shoulders and eyed him, then walked over to the nearest rack and thumbed through the suits. "Here," she said, pulling a navy blue jacket off its hanger. "Try this on just for size."

Brian slipped the jacket on.

"Put your arms by your side," Barbara commanded. "Not like a stiff, Brian. Naturally."

"Okay," Illaria said. "Now cross your arms in front of you."

Brian did so.

"How does that feel, tight?"

"A little." "Where?"

"Around my shoulder blades."

"I think he needs the next size up," Barbara said.

"Yes," Illaria nodded. "We can always take it in a little. Easier than letting out."

Brian handed her back the jacket.

"Okay, now you have a nice slim build," she said. "These should fit very nice on you. Giorgio designs for a slimmer man."

"You should see her having to fit these fat studio execs," Barbara said. "She has such patience."

"And a very talented tailor," Illaria laughed, and then turned her attention to Brian, taking him by the arm. "Now these are your first three suits, Brian, so you should start with basics. A nice dark gray, a navy blue and because you are going to work in advertising, I think you can get away with a black."

"Yes," Barbara agreed. "Definitely black for an ad agency. It'll look very sharp."

They ended up with three suits: a black wool crepe, a solid navy poplin and a dark grey with light pinstripes. Brian had little say in the matter: the two women had him stand and twirl like a model, critiquing each of the dozen suits he'd tried on.

_No, the waist is too high for him. _

_I don't like the lapel on this one, it's too big for his face._

_It buttons too low, it should hit him higher._

Brian was surprised to find he understood their commentary, got why the jacket should button higher. He wondered if it was because he was gay.

"Should I call the tailor?" Illaria asked.

"Not yet. Let's get him some shirts," Barbara said. "We can match them to the suits." She was having the time of her life, Brian realized. Dave hated shopping, hated getting dressed up. But Barbara lived for this— she had a good eye for it too.

Illaria got to work. "Okay, button this up," she said, gesturing to the white shirt she'd had her assistant fetch for Brian when he was trying on the suits, both she and Barbara nixing the black Calvin Klein shirt Brian had bought on sale for $27 at the one halfway decent men's store in Allentown. "Okay, she said, slipping her fingers under the collar and producing a measuring tape from her jacket pocket. "Fifteen and a half, thirty-six."

She and Barbara selected three shirts for Brian: a white traditional point collar, a light blue with a spread collar and a white shirt with bright blue stripes. "You wear this with the black or the navy," Illaria instructed Brian. "Not with the gray. Too many stripes."

Ties were then procured, one for each shirt, a deep red with black and gold diamonds for the white shirt, a dark gray with light gray stripes for the blue shirt and a deep blue with a lattice pattern in a slightly lighter blue for the striped shirt.

"Now for the tailor, " Illaria stated. "We get him some shoes—"

"Shoes!" Barbara laughed. "How could we forget shoes!"

And so three pairs of lace-up dress shoes were brought out, Brian was consulted on comfort, but not style.

"With the shoes you want to go a little more conservative," Illaria explained. "Especially for an interview."

"Oh definitely!" Barbara agreed. And so the black shoes with the basket weave on the side that Brian had actually liked were swiftly eliminated and a pair of black cap toe lace-ups were agreed upon.

"Socks too," Illaria said. "These I give you for free, for being so patient with us old ladies. She held up a pair of black dress socks. "You're tall," Illaria explained, "so you can match either the shoes or the pants. If you're short, you match the pants, it gives the illusion of length."

Finally a tailor was summoned.

"Barbara— this is incredible, but I— I can't afford any of this," Brian stammered.

"Oh my God, sweetheart, you thought you were going to have to pay for this!" she laughed. "Oh you poor thing, you must have been dying, wondering what these crazy ladies are doing making you try on all these clothes you can't afford." She grabbed Illaria's arm and they laughed.

"Merry Christmas, Brian. This is a gift from Ken and me and from David too, I told him I was going to take you and he thought you'd love this, he said you read GQ now and you know all about different shirts. You're a wonderful young man and a wonderful friend— to all of us, not just David. And we're happy to have you as part of the family."

A tear slid down Brian's cheek. "I feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman," he said, forcing a laugh. "I've— I've never been in a store like this. Had clothes this beautiful… This… this is the best Christmas present I've ever gotten." He gave Barbara a big hug and kissed her on both cheeks. "Thank you… Mom.

Barbara smiled deeply and kissed Brian back. "It is my pleasure sweetheart. Wear it in the best of health."

Illaria wrapped up the shirts, ties and shoes and put them in black shopping bags that said "Giorgio Armani" on the side. "I just put everything on your your account," she told Barbara."

"Here," Illaria said, handing the bags to Brian. "Buon Natale." And she kissed him on both cheeks.

"Come—" Barbara said. "Let's go get a drink to celebrate. There's a good place around the corner and you can show off your shopping bags on the way there."

They sat and made up stories about the people around them, pretended to be a mother and son visiting from England, and shared a bottle of Chardonnay and a Caesar salad, dressing on the side.

"You are not going to hit on that porn star when we get the car, Brian" she said as they were heading back to Rodeo, which was jammed with tourists and last-minute Christmas shoppers.

"And why is that? Afraid I may break poor Colin's heart?"

"No. I was thinking you might contract a venereal disease or worse. I'm sure he turns tricks on the side. Most of the gay porn stars do."

Brian hadn't even considered that. All he'd been thinking about was Kyle's massive 9 inch cock. There was so much about being gay he still didn't know.

He flirted with Kyle anyway, just to see what would happen and was delighted when Kyle slipped him his number along with the car keys.

"Give that to me," Barbara demanded when they were stopped for a light on Wilshire. She tossed it out the window. "Out of sight, out of mind."

"You just threw away my chance to fuck a porn star!" Brian told her, more than a little indignantly.

"Actually I threw away your chance to get the clap or AIDS. You're a twenty-one year old boy. You still think with your dick. So I'm thinking for you. And Colin."

"Fighting dirty, are we?" Brian teased.

"I may be a princess, but I fight like a street kid," Barbara laughed and the light changed and Brian went back to concentrating on driving.

"So how's the world's most sharp dressed man?" Dave announced when they got home. He walked over to Brian and gave him a big hug. "Merry Christmas my brother. Wear it all in the best of health. Health, happiness and love always, my superstar."

"Thank you Davey," Brian said and kissed Dave on the cheek. "You are magic, Gold. Pure magic."

"That's what she said."

"You are awful, is what you are," Barbara said and swatted Dave playfully on the head.

"I know Dave seems like a happy person all the time," Barbara explained over another glass of wine, after Dave went outside to grill the tuna steaks Carmen had picked up for dinner. "But he used to have a real air of melancholy to him when he was alone. Ken and I both noticed it. But once he went away to college, it stopped and a lot of that is because of you."

"He healed me far more than I healed him," Brain said.

"Either way you two are a very good match for each other. Now I can see why the two of you get along so well— you have a very similar sense of humor and you both have very big hearts."

"When two people live together, they say they start to look alike. Especially their hearts."

She nodded and took another sip of wine, then realized Brian was joking. "Like I said," she snorted. "You have a very similar sense of humor.

*********************************************************************************

The next night they went to a Christmas Eve party one of Dave's high school friends was throwing, Dave seemed excited about it, as a lot of people he knew would be there.

It was still surprising to Brian at how much of Dave's life took place in the precincts along Sunset Boulevard, how often they found themselves driving Charlotte along the windy palm tree lined road, Dave taking the curves way too fast for Brian's comfort, especially when he'd had a few drinks. Which was why Brian was driving that night, as they'd each had a beer back at the house and even one beer could make Dave a little tipsy.

"Whose house are we going to anyway?" Brian asked as they passed over the 405.

"Cass D'Allessio," Dave said. "You've met her before. Long black hair, pretty, green eyes. Goes to SC. Kinda flat but a good body."

"Cassandra?"

"Yeah. I guess she goes by that now. It's like people who knew me in elementary school still call me Davey."

"And me."

"Yes. And you."

"Did you fuck her?"

"Who?"

"Cass."

"Yeah. Once. Junior year. But she's not like that usually. She's like a boyfriend kind of girl."

"A boyfriend kind of girl?"

"You know, she's usually got a boyfriend. Not like a bunch of hook-ups."

"Except when she meets the Dave Gold charm."

"Knucklehead… we were both kind of coked out that night and then we took a Xanax and got stoned and I don't know… it just happened. It was at Gabe's house. There was a spare bedroom. You know…"

Brian let Dave's voice trail off. He was still taken aback by how many drugs Dave and his friends did back in high school and how young they were too— Dave had started getting high at 13, snorting coke at 14, at someone's eighth grade graduation party. It was equally strange that most of them had somehow managed to wind up at good colleges. Dave barely touched drugs anymore, it interfered with his baseball. He'd do an occasional line if one of his friends had it, take a few hits from a joint if he was planning to try and fall asleep. Brian and Mikey had drank often enough in high school and smoked the occasional joint, but coke and pills and other drugs were beyond their ken. He doubted they'd have been able to afford them even if they'd been interested. Stealing Jim Beam from his father had been a lot easier.

"Take a left there where that sign says 'Bel Air'" Dave instructed. "And then bear right. It's about a mile and half up that road."

"What does Cass's father do?" Brian asked.

"He's a record producer. Frank D'Allessio."

"Not Boaz or Raphael."

"You remember that?" Dave laughed. "That was such a fun night. That whole trip was awesome."

"It's when we became superstars," Brian noted, and moved his right arm so his cowrie shell bracelet was next to Dave's.

"Yup, and when we got our buddy bracelets," Dave noted. "…So that night. When you were with that girl…woman…"

"How did I get it up?"

"Yeah."

"I thought about cock, Davey. I closed my eyes and imagined it was some hot guy blowing me and then I got hard."

"Yeah, but you still had to fuck her."

"I'm not totally immune to the charms of pussy, dude. I was hard, she was there…"

"And it was easy enough to fuck her to get off?"

"Exactly. And then I could convince myself I was straight because I'd actually managed to fuck her."

"I'm sorry dude," Dave said, and squeezed Brian's shoulder.

"It had nothing to do with you Gold. Besides, it's ancient history. I'm a fully actualized homo with a hot boyfriend now."

"Do you…do you like swallow his jizz?"

"Full of questions tonight, aren't we Davey?"

"I was just asking."

"I know. I'm glad you ask too. It's how I know you actually care."

"So?"

"As often as possible. And yes it's delicious and yes he swallows mine and yes it tastes slightly different depending on what he's eaten."

"Yeah, girls say that."

"That Colin's cum tastes delicious?"

"No idiot. That it tastes different depending on what you've been eating."

"I didn't realize they had such refined palates."

"It's that next house over on the left. Where all the cars are," Dave said. "They probably have valet set up."

"Of course. Give me a minute. I'm still hard from thinking about Colin's cum."

"Me too— from thinking about girls swallowing, Kinney. Not Colin. I knew you were just about to go there."

"Guilty as charged."

A handsome guy with big arms, white teeth and the looks of a JC Penney catalog model held the car door open for Brian as they pulled up. "Will you be staying long, sir?" he asked, handing Brian a claim ticket.

"I'll definitely be staying hard," Brian smiled, eyeing the guy, whose tight khakis revealed a sizable package.

"Can't tonight dude," the valet said. "Working and I need the money."

"Such a pity," Brian said, running his finger up and down the valet's crotch as he used the open car door to shield them from view.

"Yeah," the guy smiled and got into the front seat. "Sweet ride," he said, before pulling away.

"I saw that," Dave said, as they walked towards the house. "The valet."

"Yeah, he was hot."

"I bet. But listen— I don't mean this to be mean to you, Brian, but guys like that, guys who are parking cars at parties like this— they need that money. They came out here to be actors and they're broke and they want the company that hired them to hire them again. So whether or not he wanted to fuck you, he had to pretend like he did and then he had to make sure he got away without hurting your feelings because he needs to park cars all night and he doesn't want you complaining to his bosses. You get what I'm saying?"

"Don't try and fuck the help."

"Exactly. I mean, I know this is weird for you. Being at houses like this, driving up in a Mercedes and having guys who are older than you call you sir. But always be nice to the little guy, right? One day it could be me or you."

Brian looked a little shaken.

"It's fine dude— he was a good looking kid, I'm sure people— guys and girls— hit on him all the time. But remember 'be nice to the little guy'— it's part of the superstar code." And then he clanked his bracelet against Brian's, put his hand on his shoulder and guided him into the house.

Brian had ceased to be shocked by the size of Dave's friends houses, but this one, a very stark modern multilevel, set into the hill, was both particularly large and particularly beautiful, as least from Brian's point of view.

"It's my Christmas party for the Jews," Cass joked as she took their jackets.

"Well, Brian's Catholic too," Dave noted. "So you've got at least one other true believer."

"I don't know about true believer, David. We're sort of nominally Catholic," she smiled. "We have a Christmas tree. And Christmas parties. That's about the extent of it."

"Oh." Dave looked disappointed. "I thought Brian might be able to go to church with your family tomorrow."

"Well I'd be delighted," she said, "if we actually went to church. Do you really want to go Brian? I'll go with you if you do."

"Not at all," Brian chuckled. "I don't know why Gold thought that."

"Because he's Malibu Davey," Cass said, kissing Dave on the lips. "And in the Malibu Davey Christmas play set, Davey and the gang take a sleigh through the snow to get to church on Christmas morning."

"Beats taking a Mercedes down to San Vicente to eat Chinese food and go to the movies," Dave mumbled.

"That's only because you've never been to church," Brian told him. "I am thrilled to be able to eat Chinese food and go to the movies with you tomorrow."

"You're welcome to join us, Cass," Dave said. "We're going to see Tombstone — it opens tomorrow."

"That's that western with Kurt Russell?"

"Yeah. My dad saw the presreen, he said it was amazing."

"Call me. I may have to hang out with my Nana and my cousins, but otherwise, yes."

"You could tell them you're going to church with me," Brian said.

"Nice try, but Nana would insist on coming with me. And then talk shit about the priest the whole way home."

"She clearly knows my mother then," Brian smirked.

"Clearly." Cass stood up and looked around. "I better go play hostess. I'll catch you guys later."

Dave's friends spent an inordinate amount of time discussing how they'd gotten from point A to point B, debating the wisdom of the various routes and shortcuts they had discovered in order to avoid Los Angeles traffic. Brian loved to tease Dave about this, the seemingly endless "So I took Sepulveda to Wilshire and then cut over to Bundy to get up to Sunset" conversations Dave and his high school friends took part in.

They were figuring out the rest of the night's festivities, plotting with some of Dave's old teammates about the easiest way to get to Santa Monica and Fairfax in Hollywood. Brian was sort of tuning them out, but then he heard one of them advocating going down Doheny and without realizing it, he said "Why would you go down Doheny? There's all that traffic by the bars in West Hollywood. La Cienega's going to be a lot easier."

And then all four of them, plus Cass and her sister jumped up and started pointing at him. "One of us! One of us! One of us! Gabba gabba hey! One of us!"

"You're a native now, dude," Dave said, ruffling his hair. "You don't get to bust on me for that anymore."

"Okay," Brian smiled. "You are hereby absolved. But what is that 'one of us' from?"

""Freaks" You never saw "Freaks?" It's a great cult film. It used to play at midnight at this theater in Hollywood when I was in high school and we used to go see it." Dave bit his lip for a second. "I wonder if it's still playing… Guys— Brian never saw "Freaks" before. If it's still playing, we have to take him to see it."

"'Freaks' on Christmas Eve," Cass squealed. "That would be the most awesome thing ever!"

Calls were made. Weed was procured. And instead of midnight mass, Brian spent Christmas Eve stoned, watching the 1932 Tod Browning cult film about deformed circus performers. Cass was holding his hand during the movie and at one point she kissed him and they started making out. Her mouth felt warm and inviting and her hair smelled like peppermint.

"Are you sure you're gay?" she whispered to him, rubbing her hand over his erect penis.

"Pretty sure," he replied.

"Maybe you're bi. Lots of guys are bi."

"I don't know…" he said and went back to kissing her, breaking the kiss to watch the "one of us" scene at the end.

"So I'll call you guys tomorrow," Cass said when the valet brought around her car, a white BMW 3-series convertible. She leaned in and kissed both Dave and then Brian, lingering kisses with plenty of tongue.

"Duuudde!" Dave said as soon as she pulled away. "What was that all about?"

"What?"

"You were sucking face with her the entire movie."

"So?"

"So, you're gay."

The valet attendant brought Charlotte around and Dave and Brian got in.

"I don't know what that was about, Davey. She kind of initiated it, and it felt good, you know. She's really sexy."

"So are you not gay anymore?"

"I don't know Dave!" Brian stomped his foot on the floor of the car and punched the door.

"Calm down dude. Let me throw this out at you. You know the Kinsey scale, right? That says very few people are 100% gay or 100% straight? Well you're probably somewhere close to the middle. Which means you can get turned on by women. You're just more turned on by guys."

"But I was hard."

"Yeah. It happens dude. She's a really sexy girl. You were stoned. Feeling good about yourself. It was Christmas Eve… look, just go with it. See how you feel tomorrow. It's not like you have to make a decision right here and now."

"I know Gold. It's still sort of messed up. I mean, Colin!"

Dave didn't respond, he was focusing on driving and taking the curves on Sunset at 50 mph.

"You know, it would be pretty funny if you turned out to be straight. Like we'd get back to school and be like 'that whole Kinney-is-gay thing? Big joke! Never mind. Nothing to look at! As you were, lads!"

Brian chuckled and squeezed Dave's hand. "You're a nut Gold, you know that."

**********************************************************************************

"So are you thinking about Cass or Colin?"

Brian was in the middle of jerking off and hearing Dave's voice made him jump. They each usually jerked off after they shut the lights off but would each assume the other was asleep and they never actually talked about it, even though they could usually hear the other one masturbating. It was a useful fiction for avoiding the uncomfortable fact that they were two horny twenty-one year olds sleeping in the same bed.

"Both, actually… what about you."

"Just Colin."

"Are you serious?"

"No."

"You're such a dick, David."

"I try."

Brian rolled over onto his side. "So would you like it better if I was thinking about Cass? That way I could be straight again and you wouldn't have to worry about having a fag as a best friend."

"I'd like it better if you were happy, Brian. That's all I really care about. Not who you sleep with."

"I think you'd like it better if I were straight. It'd be a lot easier for you, wouldn't it Davie?"

"Stop it Kinney! I hate when you fucking do this. There's no winners in your stupid fucking game. So let's just stop it because (a) I'm not playing and (b) I'm not letting you throw yourself a little "everyone hates Brian" pity party. A really sexy woman kissed you today and you got a hard on. So you're not 100% gay, just 90% or 80 or maybe even 51. And if you don't know that I love you no matter what you are, then you're a fucking idiot."

Brian started sobbing. "It's so scary Dave," he said, burying his head in Dave's neck. "It's just so fucking scary. I feel like I'm going crazy. I wish I was straight. I'm so sick of being different."

Dave wrapped his arms around Brian and started stroking his hair. "It's okay buddy. I'm here for you. You don't have to be scared by yourself. We'll figure this out, dude."

"You don't know that Dave. We may never figure it out."

"That's the least likely outcome, Brian. What's the point in dwelling on it?"

"Because it's honest."

"It's not honest, Kinney. It's depressive. You always see the glass as half empty and leaking badly. Yeah, you want to be prepared for bad things, but you just wallow in them, turn the least likely outcome into the most likely."

"I kissed a girl and got turned on by it Gold. I don't know what it means and I'm scared."

"It means sexuality isn't black and white, Brian. That's all. Now stop stressing and get some sleep."

He traced his fingers up and down Brian's back and they lay like that for about five minutes until Brian had calmed down. He was getting horny again and so he rolled away from Dave, who rolled over onto his side of the bed.

Brian started thinking about Cass, about fucking her and that turned into fucking Colin and then a three way, with Colin fucking him while he fucked Cass.

He heard the familiar "hehhhhh" that signified Dave had reached orgasm a few seconds after he'd brought himself over the edge.

"Can I taste it?"

"You're not going to let me masturbate in peace, are you David?"

"You just came. I heard the old 'heh heh heh.'"

"So?"

"So I want to taste it."

"Taste what Gold?"

"Your cum."

"What are you talking about?"

"You were talking before about how different guys cum tasted different. And the only cum I've ever tasted is my own. And short of giving some guy a blow job which is never going to happen, this is the only way I can think of to sample someone else's. It's the advantage of having a gay or mostly gay best friend. If I asked a straight guy to do that, he'd completely freak out."

"Well add me to that list then. It is pretty freaky. But you're weird enough and stoned enough for it to be legit. So here," he swiped his finger across the cum on his belly and brought it to Dave's mouth, where Dave licked it off his finger.

"Not awful," he pronounced after about 10 seconds. "A little sweeter than mine but also more tangier.. I don't know how else to describe it."

"Let me try yours then," Brian said, scooping a big load off of Dave's belly. It wasn't bad, had less flavor than his own, somewhere between his own and Colin's. He remembered how badly he'd once wanted to taste Dave's ejaculate, going so far as to empty out a dirty condom during freshman year. He scooped some more up for good measure. "Kind of nutty," he announced.

"So now I've got some of you inside me and vice versa," Dave said. "I can't believe we just did that. Are you cool?"

"This has just been a whole night of things I can't believe I did," Brian noted. "So what's one more. Nice spin though. We'll make an ad man out of you yet."

"I try dude. But right now I'm fading. Let's try and get some sleep superstar."

"Okay… you're the only guy— other than Colin— who's ever eaten it."

"And you're the only guy period. Plenty of girls. But you're the only guy."

"Good night dude," he said, rolling over to plant a peck on Dave's cheek. "I love you, cum-eating superstar."

"Back at you."

Brian tried to sleep but he couldn't, there was way too much going through his head. He heard Dave's rhythmic breathing and tried to mimic it, but he was still way too wired.

"Dave?" he finally said, poking at Gold's left shoulder. "Dave? Do you think I could be straight?"

"Huh! What? Brian? You okay buddy?"

"Yeah. Do you think I could be straight?"

"Fuck, Brian," he said, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "I don't know. I thought you said you were always gay, that you knew when you were like 13 or 14 and that's why you and Mikey became friends."

"But I didn't always know. I mean cock turns me on. I always figured that if you like cock, you're automatically gay. I mean what girl would want a guy that sucks dick?"

"A lot of girls probably, but go on."

"I used to walk past a newsstand that had a magazine with a picture of Cindy Crawford and one of Patrick Swayze on the cover and I'd try and figure out which one I looked at first. Which one I'd rather fuck."

"And?"

"It was usually Swayze. But not always."

"Well you just have a thing for him dude. But seriously— there's no point in torturing yourself like that." Dave scooted over and put his arm around Brian's neck. "I mean comparing how you react to two celebrities isn't any indication of anything."

"Well then what is, Davey? When we got to college I wanted to be straight. I liked girls. I like having sex with them sometimes. I kept thinking that if I did it enough, I'd forget about guys. And then tonight, with Cass. I would have fucked her right there if I could have."

Dave hugged Brian tighter. "It's got to be a very tough thing to deal with Bri. You're not some flamer who never has to wonder what he is. And I get how tough that must be. Or rather, I can appreciate it— I don't think I can ever fully get how tough it is for you. But I still think it all comes back to the Kinsey scale. That people fall in all over the spectrum and most people have sexual thoughts about the same sex — I mean what would he make of you and me doing what we just did?"

"Eating each other's cum?"

"Yes Brian. Eating each other's cum. That's not exactly a 1."

"But you did it so that I'd stop obsessing about Cass,"

"Maybe… partly…"

"I'm on to your tricks Gold."

"I was curious what it would taste like. And if got you to stop second-guessing yourself, all the better… Look, Brian, if I could give you a definitive answer, I would. I have no doubt you could fall in love with a woman and be sexually attracted to her— look at Lindsay. The thing is ever if you do, it won't mean you stop being attracted to boys. So we'll call you bi if you want."

"No, fag is fine. Being bi makes it sound like you can't make up your mind."

"Okay. You okay now? I really want to get back to sleep."

Brian turned around and Dave hugged him closer, his strong arm flung over Brian's shoulders.

***************************************************************

"Merry Christmas, Brian," Dave said, coming down the stairs followed by his both his mother and his father.

Brian sat up abruptly and looked at the clock. It was already 10:30.

"These are for you," Dave said, holding up 5 gift-wrapped boxes, all of which turned out to contain a key. "Keys to this house, keys to my dad's house, keys to Charlotte, keys to my mom's car, keys to my dad's car," Dave explained

"You're family now, Brian, not just a house guest," Ken told him.

"And you should feel free to take the cars whenever you want," Barbara added. "Go into the refrigerator whenever you want something and then clean up after yourself if it's Carmen's day off… Welcome to the family _bubeleh_," she said, kissing Brian on the cheek. "You are always welcome here, even when David is somewhere else, even if none of us are here. Think of this as your permanent West Coast crash pad."

"What Barbie said," Ken mumbled.

"Thank you," Brian said quietly. "For everything."

"No, thank you dude," Dave insisted. "You bring everyone so much joy. You're our sunshine."

"How did we raise such a cornball?" Barbara asked Ken. "I swear he could write for the soaps."

"We didn't really raise him, Barbie. He sort of raised himself," Ken said and wrapped his arms around Dave, kissing him on the head.

"I avoid sentimentality, David, that's why Mom likes me best," Brian smirked. "That said, I got you all presents too."

"Oh my God, Brian, you didn't— that is so sweet of you!" Barbara exclaimed. "You are the nicest, sweetest boy."

Brian pulled out three carefully wrapped presents from his suitcase. "Happy Hanukkah," he said, smiling.

For Ken, there was a framed version of Dave's official Lehigh Baseball photo with "Team Captain, David Gold, #18" across the bottom.

For Barbara, there was an antique green perfume bottle that Brian had found in a thrift shop in Bethlehem, along with a PFLAG button.

And for Dave there was a corny plastic statue he'd picked up at the mall that said "World's Best Brother."

Dave looked at his present, looked at Brian and pulled the four of them into a big hug.

Brian joined in, wondering why he wasn't as thrilled as he thought he'd be. He loved Dave, loved his parents, but the whole thing felt a little unreal, like he was still a guest, an outsider. There were so many things he still didn't know. About them, about himself, about being gay, about everything.

It was a good thing that he knew how to fake it.

A few days before New Year's, Ken stopped by the house to talk to Dave and Brian. "You guys are going to be interviewing soon— for different things, but an interview is an interview. And I need to teach you both how to be charming, how to get someone to like you and above all, trust you. Today is Monday, we'll do this on Wednesday and Thursday at my office. I'm going to swing by here at 8 AM sharp. I need you guys showered and ready. I'm going to start with the ties, so leave those off."

"We need to take David to get some new suits," Barbara interjected from the kitchen where she was drinking coffee.

"I thought you were in charge of that, Barbie," Ken snapped.

"You try getting him to try on a suit. It's easier to get a cat to put on pajamas.

Brian laughed at her analogy.

"Hush, don't be an instigator," she hissed.

"I don't need new suits," Dave complained. "I have a dozen of them."

"They're your father's old suits and they're all too old and worn looking. You need something newer."

"Well there's this great store in Malibu we could go to."

"In Malibu? Where"?" Barbara stood up and walked towards them, coffee mug in hand.

"It's called Ken Gold's Closet and it's got a great selection all in my size."

"David, your father is a fifty-one year old man, his suits are not going to fit you. In a pinch they're fine, but not for interviews.

"Listen, I'll tell you what, Barbie— I'll take Davey down to Neimans to get some suits today. I have a meeting at noon that I can move… And you—" he said, pointing to Dave— 12 noon at my office means 12 noon. Not 12:10 or 12:15 or whenever you happen to feel motivated."

"Sir! Yes, sir!" Dave barked, standing up to give a military style salute. Both his parents started laughing as did Brian.

"I'm serious, David. I have back to back meetings all day."

"Okay Dad, I get it. It's not like I'm always late."

Brian couldn't let that one pass without snickering.

"See— even Brian knows about your dysfunctional relationship with time. Which is another thing we will address on Thursday, but for now let's concentrate on getting you some clothes."

"Traitor," Dave said, giving Brian a playful shove, and everyone laughed.

**************************************************************************

Ken took Dave to Neiman Marcus where he spent most of his time on the phone, while the saleswoman, an older Chinese woman named Mae, pulled suits for Dave based on Ken's instruction that "he needs to look like a banker— nothing flashy." Mae was quite opinionated on what looked good on Dave— _this one, shoulders too big on jacket, make you look like a linebacker_— and had him try on a dozen suits before finally settling on three of them, a navy pinstripe, a gray pinstripe and a dark grey solid. Ken bargained with the tailor and then with Mae and got them agree to do rush alterations — including finding a smaller sized trouser— in just under 48 hours.

"Damn alterations are going to cost me as much as the whole suit," he grumbled. "You'd think they'd start making suits with smaller waist sizes."

"Sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about. Do you have shoes?"

"Not like dress ones."

"So let's go back and get some. A belt too. And probably some shirts and ties. We'll get Mae on that— she's got good taste."

**************************************************************************

The suits had all arrived and Dave and Brian were freshly showered and waiting in front of the mirror in Dave's bathroom when Ken showed up.

"Okay boys— men, you guys are men now. First lesson is shirts. Always get them on the hanger— otherwise you get those laundry fold lines on the front of them. Always get them professionally pressed too - you're never going to do as good a job at home."

Brian nodded. He'd never taken shirts to the cleaners before. His mother always ironed his shirts herself, making a big deal about "slaving away over a hot iron."

"And no starch," Ken continued "— it just makes the shirt turn yellow. Use collar stays— here's a box for you," he said, pulling a small tube of collar stays out of his pocket. "If you lose one, a paper clip makes a fine substitute."

Brian and Dave nodded.

"Where does a collar stay go?" Dave asked. Brian was glad he'd asked— he had no idea either.

"Under the collar on the end— there's always a little built-in slot for one. Here— feel it," he said and showed first Brian then Dave where the collar stays in their shirts were.

"Now, lesson number two: how to tie a tie."

Dave and Brian each took their ties and held them up.

"First thing you do is turn your collar up— you can unbutton the top button if you need to." He undid his own tie and demonstrated for them. "Then you put it around your neck but leave the fat side on the right. Left is Lean, that's how I remember it. Then you make sure that the lean part is just above your belt— a little higher than that Brian, good. And then you take the fat part and you go over, under, over again and then up and under and pass it through the loop. Now we're going to do that slowly and all together: over— lower down Davey— near the midway point— and then back under again— good boys— now over again to make a loop and now up and under on the same side, to pass it through the loop. Perfect. Now you take the fat part and you pass it through the loop you've made— open it up with your finger if you need to, and pass it through to make your knot. And then you take the part that's just under the knot with your finger like this, and you pinch it in to made a dimple. Then you just straighten it, make sure the lean piece isn't sticking out from under the fat piece and you're good to go. Now try it one more time with me and then you boys practice it on your own."

Brian was much better at this than Dave was. Dave's knots kept getting twisted, the ties coming out too short.

"That is excellent Brian," Ken said, looking over at Brian's fifth effort. "Just pinch the sides a little tighter so you get a better dimple in the middle."

Dave looked over and undid his latest attempt. "I am going to get this," he mumbled and then he got that determined look on his face like he did when he was playing baseball, and it took him three more tries until he finally came out with something that looked like a tie.

"Okay, I want to see ten perfect knots in a row," Ken said and Dave seemed to have gotten the hang of it, he only messed up once, and Brian had it down by now, he was starting to see the nuances each time, how the dimple made a difference, how you could adjust it by changing how tightly you left the knot, how to gauge just where the lean part should start off.

"Good. Excellent work. Just leave this last one on and get your jackets— we're going to head down to my office."

"Let me take one more picture," Barbara, who'd been watching from the doorway, insisted. She held up the small digital camera and had Dave and Brian pose in front of the mirror pretending to make one final adjustment, took another shot of them with their jackets on, one of them arm in arm and then a final one with Ken in between them.

And Brian saw them all smiling, felt himself smiling, realized that one of the most powerful men in Hollywood had just taught him how to tie a necktie, felt Dave and Ken's arms around him, saw Barbara smiling at him and for the first time in a long time, he felt so happy he thought his heart might burst.

***************************************************************************************

"Being charming isn't all that hard," Ken began. "You have to pretend you are acting, but the key is to always sound believable. You sound like you're lying or like you're reading a script, the audience isn't going to believe you either. So you need to always say things in your own words. Now, where do we start?"

Ken was pacing back and forth in one of the conference rooms at ITM, perched high on the 33rd floor of a Century City office building, the view north to the Santa Monica mountains was spectacular and Brian had to force himself to keep looking at Ken.

"You always want to ask people about themselves. Pretend you're a reporter and you're interviewing them. And everything they do or tell you sounds really fucking fascinating. I can't tell you how many times a prospect says something like they're really into windsurfing and I hear someone say 'Oh, I tried that once and it was awful.'"

Dave laughed but Brian wasn't sure why that was so wrong. At least you were being honest.

"There's a time and place for honesty Brian— I could see the look on your face," Ken offered by way of explanation. "You don't have to tell them that you can't stand windsurfing or that you'd never want to try it— your job is to just try and find out why they like it so much. In fact, it's better to make like you don't know much about it and get them to talk about it. That means it's okay to ask questions and sound like a novice. People love to be the experts."

Brian and Dave just nodded. Brian was taking notes on the legal pad Ken had provided them with, Dave was drawing baseballs.

"But what if they want us to be the experts?" Brian asked.

"Then you make it seem like you're letting them in on a big secret. Do not pontificate. And always call them by their name. Say things like 'You know what, Charlie," or 'As I was saying Charlie'— the more you use their name, the better… don't use their first name on interviews though, unless they tell you to. It's Mr. Smith or, in your case Davey, Doctor Smith."

Ken continued for another half hour, then had Dave and Brian practice with each other— he'd give one of them a character and tell them to go with it. Dave was much better at being the interviewer— he was naturally empathetic, and Brian was much better at being the interviewee as he was a much better storyteller.

At one point Dave was supposed to be an Olympic swimmer and Brian asked him what it was he loved so much about being in the water and Dave looked right at him with a totally earnest look on his face and said "it's really wet" and Brian couldn't help himself, he just burst out laughing and so did Ken and finally Dave did too.

"Okay, okay, stop," Ken said, catching his breath. "That is actually a very good example. You need to be able to keep a straight face no matter what the other person says. And people say even stranger crap than that. I once had an actress telling me all about the spirits in her house that she talks to. And I had to pretend I was believing her and that it was all perfectly normal to talk to ghosts. I swear, I should get the Academy Award sometimes."

"He's been saying that as long as I can remember," Dave confided to Brian.

"Because it's true, Davey," Ken laughed. "Now, the last piece and then we'll all go to lunch: David - you are going to be interviewing at medical schools and all they want to do is make sure you're not a serial killer. They'll ask questions about your classes and your professors and what area you want to study. You say pediatrician and they'll lap it up. But you, number two son, are going to be interviewing with some real assholes at those ad agencies. And so I've brought in one of my colleagues to play that role for you. I want you to concentrate on keeping your calm and turning the answer around to your advantage like we just learned, okay?"

Brian nodded. "Yes, Mr. Gold."

"Excellent. Staying in character, I like that… Lloyd— tell Ari to come in here," he barked into the intercom.

A short, olive skinned man in his early thirties burst in the door. "Cuz!" he said, and clasped Dave's hand while attempting an elbow bump of some sort.

"Brian, this is Ari Gold— no relation," Ken said. "He's going to be interviewing you. Give it your best shot Ari."

"So I hear you're a fag, Kinney," he said, turning the chair around and leering at Brian. "You going to fling yourself at every hot young male account executive who so much as says hello to you.?"

"Unless I'm sucking your dick, I don't see how who I sleep with matters," Brian returned.

"So you want to suck my dick, is that what you're saying?"

"I don't mix business with pleasure. What I do in my off hours is really none of your concern. I will be able to keep your clients happy by giving them what they want—"

"—Better blowjobs?"

"No. Great ads."

"I see. And what does a kid from some shitbox school like 'Le-High' know about great ads. Tell me Brian, is that French— Le High? Is that what you did all day, get le high on le pot?"

"Lee-high has an excellent business school where I learned all the principles of marketing and how to treat each client as a unique opportunity."

"A unique opportunity," Ari said, mocking Brian's voice. "You say that to a client, they'll just laugh at you. You can't throw your business school bullshit around here."

"Well that's why I want to work here. So I can learn from the best."

"Sorry kid, we can't improve your blow job technique."

"Perhaps we can trade off then— I can teach you how to give better blow jobs and you can teach me how to be a better ad man."

"Go Bri!"

"It's not a baseball game David— pipe down." Ken Gold shook his head. "Continue."

"So what would you say Brian if I told you we were putting you on a cigarette account? And your assignment was to create a way to get teenagers to want to smoke?"

"I'd say good. Tobacco companies have a right to get their message out and if people aren't smart enough to resist it, then it's their fault. The anti-smoking people just need to come up with better ads."

"He's good, Kenny," Ari said. "That was excellent, Brian. Very impressive. Or as your people like to say 'fabulous!'"

"He's not like that, Ari," Dave snapped. "You apologize to him."

Ari looked up at Ken who was also glaring at him. "I'm sorry Brian. I got carried away with my character there. I interview a lot of MBA students who want to get jobs here and you blew all of them away. No pun intended."

"None taken," Brian said and stood up to shake his hand.

"I agree," Ken said. "Very impressive. I'm _kvelling_."

"It means bubbling over with pride," Ari explained.

"Well thank you both… so are you guys really related?"

"Not at all,' Ari said.

"So why do you call Dave 'cuz'."

"Because when he started here ten years ago, he wanted people to think he was related to us, so he started calling me cuz, and I was eleven and didn't know any better."

"You were 14 when you finally figured it out," Ari snickered.

"And he was 11 when I did," Ken noted.

"Busted!" Dave snickered and high-fived Brian.

"Well on that note, I am out of here," Ari said, standing up. "Come here, Brian, hug it out."

Brian stood up and Ari pulled him into an awkward hug.

"If you ever want a job as an agent Kinney, give me a call," he said, handing Brian his business card. "I think you'd be phenomenal."

"I do too," Ken noted.

"Thank you, Mr. Gold… and thank you too, Mr. Gold," he said, turning to Ken.

"You were great, Brian."

"You rocked, dude!"

*******************************************************************

Later at lunch, Ken told them how proud he was of both of them. "Freshman year you were like two little boys, especially this one," he said, motioning to Brian. "You were such a quiet little boy. But now… look at you. Two superstars."

Brian looked over at Dave who shook his head no, and they joined Ken in a toast.

"To superstars," Dave said.

"To superstars." 


	17. A Phone Call From Los Angeles

_Another flash forward to a phone call in canon time. Ken Gold calling Brian, about a week and a half after Gus is born. A quick snack while I'm putting together the next, longer chapter._

"Hello, this is Kenneth Gold's office calling for Brian Kinney, is this Mr. Kinney?"

"Yes. It's me— he— him."

"Thank you Mr. Kinney. Please hold for Mr. Gold."

"Brian?"

"Hey Pops."

"Don't 'pops' me Brian. I'm very disappointed in you. A bris is a big deal. And to go in and stop it like you did is disrespectful—"

"I know… I've already gotten an earful from Dave. I'm really sorry. You know I would never disrespect you or David or the Jewish religion. You know that."

"I do Brian. You're a good boy. And I don't think you were disrespecting Judaism. At least not on purpose. What I was going to say, if you had let me finish, is that you were disrespecting one of your son's two mothers and turning one of them against the other. And that is not going to work out very well for you, or Gus, in the long run."

"I see."

"Tell me though, what was going through your mind yesterday. Because if I know you, there was something else that was bothering you. Am I right?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"I'm a busy man, Brian. I don't ask people things I don't want to hear the answer to."

"Gus is my kid too. And they keep on making all these decisions without me. They didn't even tell me about the bris—"

"They didn't tell you Brian or they told you and you were too high to understand?"

"That's not fair."

"But it's true. Don't bullshit me Brian. I've spent my entire career taking care of actors and musicians who swore they didn't have a drug problem."

"I don't have a drug problem."

"I don't know Brian, you tell me. Would we be having this conversation if there wasn't a problem….. Brian?…. Brian?"

"I'm scared."

"It's okay. What's scaring you Brian? You can tell me."

"Being a father… being a sort of father. Gus is Mel and Lindsay's baby. But he's mine too. And they never ask me what I think and I don't know when I'm supposed to step up or back off."

"It is a very untraditional arrangement Brian. You're going to be navigating a lot of things without a map and sometimes you're going to make mistakes. But so long as you keep Gus's best interests at heart, that's what matters. From now on you have to think about him and put him first, no matter how that may affect you."

"But what if he hates me for being gay, for being different than all the other dads. For not being around enough."

"Kids are very forgiving Brian. I should know."

"Like Dave?"

"I was a terrible father to him. And I'm telling you this as a cautionary tale Brian - and just so you know, you are the first person I've ever told this to. So you are not to repeat it. Is that clear?"

"Yes. Very."

"Good. You see, when Davey was born, I was scared too. My father was a pediatrician and he knew what to do with babies, knew everything about them. I didn't know anything, I felt so, so fucking incompetent. And then Barbie and her mother and my mother— they hardly let me near Davey when he was little. And so I figured he was in good hands and I backed away. That was a mistake - you shouldn't let those lesbians push you away, Brian. And if we have to pay them for that privilege, so be it… But with Davey, I was never around and then once we got divorced, I was supposed to see him every other weekend. That was it. 48 hours, every two weeks. But my job— I had to travel a lot. If a client was on a shoot and needed me, I had to be there. And I couldn't take a little boy to a movie set. So I'd leave him with my father— my mother was very sick then and Dad needed something to take his mind off of things. And Davey loved his Grandpa. He'd follow him around like a little duckling and they had all these jokes together. When Davey was with me, he was just awkward. Like I was a stranger. And instead of trying to remedy that, I just backed away. Worked more. Drank more. Whored more. Then my father died. Dropped dead of a heart attack in his office one night. Davey was the one who found him—"

"—he never told me that."

"Not a pleasant memory, I guess. So then I had to find something to do with him on my weekends. He was eight years old and he just loved baseball so much. So we'd go to Dodgers games when they were in town. I taught him how to keep score, you know, to score the game the old fashioned way, and he loved doing that, he was always good with math. That was the first time we ever really connected. So then everything was about baseball. Every time he was over we'd be outside, playing, practicing…. but it wasn't enough— I still had to travel all the time. So I got him coaches. A throwing coach. A pitching coach, A batting coach. You live on the Westside, there's no shortage of coaches for anything. College kids, minor leaguer players. When he was in high school I even got him a batting coach who used to work with the Dodgers. But the point is, even though I was hardly there, we always had something to talk about. Baseball."

"And then?"

"And then— he was lonely as fuck. Barbie got remarried to that prick from Warner Brothers and they were fighting all the time and Davey would just throw the ball against the pitch back. Over and over. I wanted to take him with me, but I was working, men didn't do things with their kids back then, but at least I saw him, some of the guys I worked with, their kids lived back East, in New York and they saw them once, maybe twice a year. He had this coach, Roger, a good kid, used to play for UCLA and was trying to break into acting. And one day I realized that Roger knew more about Davey than I did. Davey had won some math trophy at school, like a spelling bee, but for math, and I told him, oh, you should tell Roger, and he said, 'I already did, Dad. Who do you think picks me up from school?' And that was my kid— the other kids had their mothers pick them up from school, maybe the nanny. He had a twenty-four year old model/actor/minor league baseball player."

"He still talks to Roger."

"I know. He lives up in San Jose now. Married, 3 kids. Runs a couple of baseball academies, a small chain. It's a good business for him."

"You set him up in that, didn't you?"

"It was the least I could do. He practically raised David, Barbie was all checked out at that point too. And then in high school, he kind of raised himself. He got his license at 16 and we didn't need anyone to drive him anyplace, and I don't know, he had a credit card, he sort of did what he wanted. I'd come home sometimes, he'd be in the living room watching TV, I didn't even remember it was his weekend."

"How did he react to that?"

""You don't know? The two of you are up each other's asses so much I didn't think there was anything you didn't know about each other."

"Actually Dave's is one of the few asses I haven't been up."

"Very cute, Brian. But you forget I'm not that easily shocked."

"Point taken. But what happened with Dave?"

"He just withdrew. But it was like that song, 'Cat's In The Cradle'— he'd just make happy talk to me, never actually say anything. You know how he can be. But I could tell, underneath, that he was seething. That that was the way he handled aggression, by being Really Fucking Charming. But underneath, you could tell, there was an edge."

"I know. I can always tell when Dave doesn't like somebody. Most people can't. He's got that front up all the time."

"And who do you think he learned that from? Who do you think is exactly like that? That's why I said, 'Cat's In The Cradle.'"

"But you guys get along now."

"He changed, Brian. He went off to college, and he had this roommate, some tall skinny Irish kid from Pittsburgh. And it was like he found himself. He finally had an ally, someone he could open up to. His "brother from another mother." And I think it opened his heart up Brian. I think you made Dave realize he could trust people, maybe even love them. And so he started talking to me on the phone sometimes. I mean really talking to me, not just his usual happy talk. And then I realized I actually liked him, that somehow, in spite of everything I'd done, he'd turned into a good kid and he was a lot more like me than I'd ever realized. They talk about nature versus nurture and I'm always shocked at how much nature matters. Once he moved back to LA to go to med school, I got a second chance with him. So now we play golf, we go to lunch— you know all this—"

"I do."

"But what you don't know is how much I wish I hadn't stepped back all those years ago when Davey was younger. How much I regret losing all those years. I didn't really know him most of his life. So that's what I'm telling you Brian, step in, don't step back. Every day is precious and you want to be there for all of them. It won't be easy— you don't have a roadmap. But I think you'll be glad if you do. And don't get between the mothers. You'll need them both on your side. This second bris—- that's your idea, to make it up to them. You understand?"

"Is that's what you told her?"

"Davey did."

"He's coming? Are you sure?"

"Yes. He talked to the other lesbian, the Jewish one, Melissa—"

"Melanie?"

"Right, Melanie, and they're going to do the bris again on Sunday and Dave will be there for you."

"Are you sure? He sounded pretty angry when we were on the phone before."

"I'm sure. I just talked to him. You know he can't stay mad at anyone, least of all you."

"He's still magic.. And thank you. For everything. It's… it's good have someone like you to talk to… Pops."

"You're a good boy Brian. You've got a big heart, just like Davey— and your boy, Gus— who came up with that name, Gus?"

"Jus— Lindsay did. I think it's a family name."

"Well it's a nice name. Strong. So what I was saying was that Gus is very lucky to have a man like you for a father."

"Thank you."

"I mean that, Brian. And I mean the other thing too— we can get you right into Betty Ford if you want. Hazelden even."

"I appreciate the thought, but you and Dave really need to stop worrying. I'm fine."

"He'll be out there to see you this weekend, he's a doctor, let's see what he thinks."

"You sure he's coming?"

"Yes… call him, I'm sure he'd like to hear from you…. I have to to go, they're telling me I have another call in 90 seconds. But be good to Gus, be a part of his life. You won't regret it.

"I will. And thanks Pop. I… I love you."

"I love you too Brian. You're a good boy. Now call Davey and make up."


	18. It's Only Time

Colin was magic.

He'd been waiting at the airport when Dave and Brian got back from LA and drove Brian home— Dave's car was at the airport so he drove himself back— and Brian was so happy to see the blonde freshman he treated him to a blow job as he was driving, an act that was overseen by a passing truck driver who tooted his horn at them.

"I think he thought you were a chick, dude," Colin noted. "Good thing you have those skinny little hips."

Brian responded by taking Colin's cock deeper, burying his nose in his blonde pubic hair.

The rest of January passed in much the same vein. Colin would come over at least four nights a week and they'd fuck, crazily and passionately, without condoms since they'd both been tested again and Colin didn't like them. Brian hadn't been with anyone other than Rob Messina in the prior three months and he just knew Rob was negative, and besides, he and Rob were always very safe. He loved the way it felt when Colin exploded deep inside him, the cum dripping out of his ass afterwards, loved how smooth and soft Colin's firm, muscular ass felt when he was inside it, the sensations even more heightened, loved trying to bring Colin to a hands free orgasm, something the blonde could never manage to relax enough to achieve.

But mostly Brian loved the afterglow, the cuddling and kissing and whispering "I love you." The feel of Colin's head on his chest, using his pecs as a pillow. Waking up with Colin's strong arms hugging him tightly, making him feel safe and secure.

Dave made himself scarce a lot of the nights Colin was over, spending time at the ZBT frat house with Brandon and Scott, walking next door to TKE to play foosball with Billy and compare notes on their med school applications.

When he was there, it was great, Dave got along week with Colin, who claimed that the Lakers were his second favorite team, right after his hometown Bullets, and they'd watch basketball games together, Brian between them, purring with delight as they'd both take turns explaining to him what was happening on the court.

It was all great until Dave would jokingly-but-not-jokingly ask Colin when he was going to "make Brian an honest man" by coming out too, because "I get confused as to whether I'm supposed to know you or not. Not in the biblical sense or anything, but you know, everyone's been really cool about Brian."

And Colin would turn red and squirm and say he wasn't ready yet, say he didn't want to lose his spot on the lacrosse team, say he wasn't as brave as Brian and all of their friends pretty much knew, didn't they, it's not like they thought he and Brian were just spending all their time together studying.

And Brian would feel bad for him and tell him it was okay, even though it wasn't, even though he should have told him to go home and come back when he was ready to be public about their relationship. Because the feel of those strong arms around him, the sight of the blonde curly head bobbing up and down on his penis made Brian feel normal, something he hadn't felt in a very long time.

Dave was less forgiving and it was starting to annoy Brian.

"Why do you have to hassle Colin every time he's over here, Gold? Can't you be in a room with him for more than five minutes without asking him when he's coming out?"

"Well is he?" Dave asked, moving his feet off the end of the couch so Brian could sit down.

"It's none of your fucking business David."

"When I'm the one playing charades, pretending I barely know him when we're in public, then yes, it is my business. Fuck that— you're my business. You're my brother and I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Then trust me to figure it out Dave. Stop trying to protect me and solve all my problems. You have no idea what you're asking him to do. How hard it is. So just stop."

"Okay… I'm sorry Brian… you know I do it because I care about you, right?"

"Well stop fucking caring so much," he said and batted Dave on the shins.

"That's not gonna happen. But I will lay off Colin."

Brian heard the name and smiled to himself, amazed at how something so trivial could make him feel so happy.

Ken Gold had arranged three "exploratory interviews" for Brian with ad agencies in New York. That meant, he'd explained, that they weren't really job interviews per se, but a way for Brian to get to know the lay of the land.

"But do your homework," he'd admonished. "Read up on the agency, know their clients, have questions prepared."

Which is how Brian found himself in the lobby of the new Flatiron District headquarters of CCV Advertising, whose ads for a German sports car manufacturer had swept both Cannes and the One Show that year. Brian was freezing: he'd gotten his new black Armani suit on and was headed out the door early that morning when he realized he didn't have a coat to go with his suit— the only winter coats he and Dave had were ski jackets and he wasn't about to wear one over an Armani suit. Dave had given him a credit card and told him to buy a coat when he got to New York, but the stores didn't open until 10, the same time as his appointment.

He walked off the elevator into the vast loft like space and was taken in by the energy, the buzz of people and phones and computers. He noticed a lot of people wandering in wearing jeans and t-shirts, headphones in their ears and wondered if the suit and tie wasn't overkill.

Sherry Miller, the senior account exec who he was meeting with was a thin, intense brunette, the younger sister of one of the agents who worked for Ken at ITM. Brian estimated her to be in her early 30s. She was wearing a navy blue miniskirt with white piping and a simple while silk shell. When they got to her office, Brian saw the jacket that matched her skirt slung over her chair. "I have a client meeting later today," she said apologetically. "Normally I don't get this dressed up."

"Is CCM a very casual place?" Brian asked.

"The creatives are— they pretty much wear whatever they want. Account side, we still have to get dressed up some, but it's not like it used to be. Guys hardly ever wear ties anymore."

She explained the structure of the agency to Brian, how the creatives were the ones who came up with the ads, the copywriter and art director working together to create the work. Account people, she confided, were mostly there to carry their bags, help sell the ads through to the clients, help develop the strategy, make sure that the client was happy with the work the creatives produced.

"So do you ever get to write the ads once you come up with the strategy?" Brian asked.

"Are you kidding me!" she laughed. "The creatives would throw a shit fit! They don't even like it if we correct a typo on the copy. We're the ones who do all the work, they're the ones who get all the glory."

The same scenario played out at G&T, which had a reputation as one of the better of the large agencies: his contact, a plump blonde senior account exec who was the niece of one of Ken's golf buddies spent their hour complaining about how no one respected account executives anymore, that the clients all had their own marketing departments who did a lot of the work the account execs used to do and how the creatives just saw them as bag handlers.

Beige, a large agency that catered primarily to packaged goods clients was a little better, the account director he met with there claimed that the difference between Beige and other Madison Avenue firms was that at Beige the account team was still in charge. He invited Brian to sit in on a creative presentation, and even though his contact and the other account managers were all somewhat dismissive of the work, testimonial TV commercials for a floor wash, Brian thought the creatives' job was much more fun, and, more importantly, something he'd actually be quite good at. He liked writing, was good with a pun and liked the idea that he'd be the one to actually come up with the ads people saw. He certainly didn't see himself as a bag handler.

That was, he learned, after stopping the creative director in the hall on the way out, not something he was immediately qualified for. Copywriters, the creative director explained, needed a "book" — a portfolio of mocked-up ads they'd done themselves for real products that showed off their skills. Ten years ago it had been a lot easier to break in, he explained, agencies would often hire promising writers without "books" and train them. But times had changed and now there were actual portfolio schools, graduate programs that helped aspiring copywriters and art directors break into the business. And then there were colleges like Syracuse and Texas and SVA, the School of Visual Arts who provided the same training for undergrads. Brian would be up against a lot of competition if he chose that route.

When Brian insisted he was up for the challenge, the creative director, a short muscular man with wavy brown hair who Brian was pretty sure was gay, gave him the name of a few books he could read on how to put a portfolio together and advised him to take a class at SVA that fall. He let his hand linger in Brian's on the handshake and Brian might have been interested— he was a handsome guy with a very good build- if not for Colin, and besides, Brian laughed to himself, it wasn't like they could have sex on the desk in the guy's office or in the men's room— there were way too many people walking in and out.

When he got home later that afternoon he kept his suit on and had Colin come over and pretend to be a job applicant, he even forced Dave into pretending to be the HR manager, payback for the time he'd pretended to be a hotel desk clerk for Dave and one of his kinkier girlfriends. And though Dave had protested that that was freshman year and the statute of limitations had expired, he saw how determined Brian seemed and relented.

Colin proved very adept and showing off his "oral skills", giving Brian a blow job by pulling his cock out through the zipper in his suit pants and swallowing every drop before Brian bent him over his desk and fucked him, his suit pants around his ankles, jacket shirt and tie still on.

"So you and Colin doing anything special for Valentine's Day?" Dave asked Brian one night in early February as they were sitting on the couch watching Letterman, drinking beer and eating popcorn.

"I don't know. I'd like to go out to dinner someplace. Maybe even drive into New York. But I'm not sure he'd be up to it."

Dave said nothing, he just narrowed his eyes and slowly took a swig of beer.

"What about you Dave? What are you planning for Valentine's Day?"

Dave grinned at him, barely suppressing a laugh.

Brian smirked back at him.

"That's really good popcorn," Dave said, keeping eye contact with Brian.

Brian just shook his head slowly and laughed. Dave could be a pain in the ass sometimes, but Brian loved that they could have an entire conversation about why Colin still hadn't come out and why Dave still avoided Valentine's Day like the plague without ever actually saying anything to each other.

"Actually I was thinking I might go see Jodi. She's at Penn now, it's not that long a drive."

"Have you talked to her since the summer?"

"A couple of times."

"So what makes you so sure she'll want to see you?"

Dave arched his eyebrows at Brian.

"She may have a boyfriend."

Dave shrugged. "I'll send roses."

"So why the sudden interest?"

"Well it beats staying here listening to you two butt fuck all night."

Brian looked down at the floor.

"And if it was a girl I'd feel the same way, B."

"Why are you so opposed to having a girlfriend, Dave?" Brian asked, looking up.

"I'm not opposed. I mean being in love seems pretty fun. It's just never happened to me yet and I don't want to lead some girl down the wrong path, have her think I'm in love with her."

"And you're scared. It's a lot easier for you to keep everything on the surface. That way nobody gets hurt."

"Exactly. That's why I have you. I can tell you stuff and it feels safe."

"But why me?"

"I don't know dude, why anything? I mean I met you, and right away, from the first second I saw you, it just clicked. Like it was almost physical. Remember that first week, we stayed up till like 4:30 AM every night just talking. And I told you stuff I'd never told anybody and you did too. But why? I don't know. I guess I thought maybe you just heard me, like really heard me, you know?"

"I do, David. I felt it too. But why?"

"Dude… people have been trying to figure that out forever. That's why they use words like 'magic' and all. Don't try and understand it Kinney. Just wallow in it."

"Wallow?"

"Yeah, like really let yourself go and be happy. You don't do that enough."

"I know. I'm not like you Davey. It's not easy for me."

"Yeah it is. I've seen it. You get drunk enough and you let yourself relax. Let yourself be happy. So go wallow in Colin. You deserve it."

Brian pulled Dave over to him, wrapping his arms around Dave's broad chest. It was the opposite of the position they normally took, but it just felt right to Brian. "Right now, I'm just going to wallow in a little Davey though."

Dave leaned his head back against Brian's chest and yawned. A commercial came on and Dave grabbed the remote and started flipping through the channels, something that normally drove Brian crazy, but tonight it just made him smile.

Colin didn't want to go to a restaurant or anywhere else public on Valentine's Day. "We can just stay inside and fuck. You said Gold's going to Philly to see some girl, right?" He pinched Brian's nipple through his tee shirt and Brian almost drove the car off the road.

They bought each other sex toys: Brian got some anal beads and Colin got them matching leather cock rings. They started off with a candle light bubble bath at around six pm, and by 11 they'd each cum around five times and were both sore and exhausted.

"I'll admit this was more fun than dinner and a show," Brian said, running his fingers through Colin's curls.

"Definitely, dude," Colin said. "Those beads were incredible." He closed his eyes and stroked Brian's ass.

"You're incredible," Brian replied, kissing Colin gently on the lips. "I love you so much," and he laid his head down on Colin's muscular chest.

"Mmmmmm," Colin moaned. "Happy Valentine's Day, dude."

"Maybe next year we can do both: go out together somewhere and then come back here and fuck our brains out."

"You won't be here next year," Colin noted.

"But I'll still see you all the time. New York's not that far away. You'll come in every weekend. And if I get horny enough, I'll drive out here for a midweek fuck."

"It won't be that easy Kinney. Once you, Dave, Billy and the rest are gone, it's going to be very different for me."

"What do you mean?"

"You guys are cool with this. Other people won't be."

"So are you going to start dating girls?" Brian teased, running his fingers through Colin's thick pubic hair.

"Probably. I mean I'm not gay."

"Says the man wearing the cock ring he bought his boyfriend as a Valentine's Day present," Brian laughed.

"I'm not, Brian. I'm bi. I dig girls and pussy too. Cock isn't all I think about."

"It's all you think about when you're with me," Brian said, grabbing Colin's hand and bringing it to his penis.

"Are you sure? Maybe I'm thinking how your ass is just a nice tight pussy when I'm fucking you," Colin said, rolling Brian over onto his back. "A nice tight pussy on a bitch with nice slim hips. So fucking tight." He slid his hard penis into Brian's well-lubed ass, slick with cum, spit and leftover lube. "And that soft silky hair," he said, thrusting deep into Brian, while he ran his fingers through Brian's hair. "What a hot bitch you are… Brianna."

For some reason this was turning Brian on incredibly, his cock was rock hard and leaking.

"I'm going to fuck you like I fuck a chick," he said, rolling his hips around when his giant cock was buried deep inside Brian.

Brian kept trying to make eye contact but Colin wouldn't look at him, he kept his eyes shut tight and was moaning "yes, Brianna, your pussy is so tight" and then all of a sudden it wasn't such a turn-on for Brian, it was kind of annoying, but Colin came just as he was about to say something.

"Thanks for the fuck, bitch," Colin said, pulling out of Brian. "But now I've got to split."

"Very funny, grasshopper. Wait till I turn you into Colleen."

"I really do have to go now Kinney."

"What are you talking about, you stupid little blonde twat," Brian said, pulling him back to the bed. "I haven't cum yet, I'm going to finish off in your ass and then you're going to spend the night in this bed with me telling me how I'm the biggest stud you know and how much you love me."

"You can fuck me Kinney, but I can't stay here. My roommates are going to wonder why I'm spending Valentine's Day at your house if Dave's not here."

"They think you're Gold's new best friend?"

"Well they don't think I'm yours," he sneered. "You're gay."

Brian felt like he was going to throw up. "So are you, you stupid twat."

"I'm bi, Brian. And they don't know that."

Brian pushed Colin down to the bed and entered him in one fell swoop. "So they don't know how much you like getting fucked. How you finally managed to cum hands free tonight like a true fag. Because you love my big dick up your ass so much it makes you cum."

Colin turned his head and looked up at Brian, then pulled him in for a kiss, bucking his hips back and forth to meet Brian's every thrust.

Brian came with a loud "heh-heh-heh" and collapsed on Colin's chest. "You are fucking amazing once you get those silly ideas out of your head," he said, running his tongue over Colin's lips.

Colin turned his head away and Brian felt his body heave beneath him and then realized Colin was crying.

"Are those tears of joy, McGinn? A fuck from me has that effect on people," Brian said.

"St—st-stop Kinney!" Colin sniffed and rolled over onto his side.

Brian rolled over so he way laying next to Colin. "What's up, stud?" he said softly, taking a lock of Colin's hair and tucking it behind his ear.

"I can't do this Brian. I can't be gay for you. I love you. You're an amazing guy. But in three months you are out of here. And I'm not. I've got three more years to go. What am I supposed to do for three years? Just be an outcast and a freak? Get kicked off the lacrosse team?"

"You don't have to come out. I'll wait for you. It's only time."

"It's a long time Brian. Three years. You're going to be a famous copywriter and I'll still be a college student."

"So what do you want to do?"

"I don't know, Brian… but right now, I want to take a shower, go back to my dorm, get drunk with my friends and not think about any of this."

"Get drunk here. Dave's got better liquor."

"No Brian. I need to forget about this. About all of this. Don't you understand?"

"So that's it McGinn? It's over?"

"I don't know Brian. I love you. I really do. And when I'm with you, it's fucking amazing. You see that. But when you're gone… I just need time to think. To figure out what this all means. Please understand. I love you Brian. I won't hurt you. I just need time."

Brian nodded slowly. "Go," he said. "It's only time."

Dave got back the next day around dinnertime, whistling to himself as he walked in the door.

"How'd it go with Jodi?" Brian asked. He'd been laying in his bed all day, drifting in and out of sleep, finishing off a bottle of Jim Beam.

"It was cool, Bri. I bought her a dozen roses, showed up at her sorority house with a blazer on and shit, and all the girlies were like "I can't believe Dave Gold is taking you out on a date for Valentine's Day!"

"How do girls at Penn know who you are?"

"I don't know dude, they just do."

This was true Brian realized. Dave's world was pretty circumscribed and between Chen-An-Go, The Brentwood School and Lehigh, there were enough people in it who knew him for Dave to become a legend. Or at the very least a known quantity.

"So what did you guys do?"

"We went to dinner at this French place downtown and then I got us a hotel room nearby and well, we didn't just watch TV."

Brian smiled. "Good, I'm happy for you superstar. So you in love?"

"I don't know dude. It was nice though. I felt, you know, like an adult. Like she wanted to be with me for me, not just because she thought I'd be a fun fuck. We talked about you a lot."

"Yeah?"

"I told you, she's got a gay brother too, and he goes through a lot of the same stuff you do."

A gay brother too. Brian started tearing up. "I love you David."

"I love you too Brian. You okay buddy?" He purposely glanced around the bedroom floor, at the bottle of lube and the anal beads and cock rings. "I mean it looks like you guys had yourselves a gay old time here last night. Everything okay?"

"No…" Dave rushed over to the bed and Brian told him the whole story.

"Oh man!" Dave sighed loudly and leaned his head back against the wall. "I hear you Brian. There's a part of me that wants to go over there, grab him by the neck and drag him back here because what the fuck was he thinking walking out on the best thing that's every going to happen to him. But then I get where he's coming from. I don't want to, but I do. He's a freshman. He's here for three more years. And he doesn't have me. Or Billy or Scott or Brandon. He's got nobody… maybe he can transfer to NYU?"

"That's not going to work Gold."

"Did you ask him?"

"He's here on a lacrosse scholarship. NYU doesn't have a lacrosse team."

"I get the sense Colin doesn't need a scholarship to go to college, Brian. Ask him."

"Its not going to work."

"Fine. I'll ask him then."

"Stop Davey. Just stop. You can't force everything to have a happy ending. Life isn't a Disney movie."

"So is it over?"

"I don't know. I don't know where we stand. He's just confused."

"Well here's the plan: you're going to take a much-needed shower and then you and I are going to go out for dinner because I'm starving and then on the way back we'll stop off at his dorm since I'm his new best buddy anyway and we can see what he's thinking."

"Dinner sounds great David, but let me handle Colin. He needs a little time to sort things out."

"I just don't like seeing you hurting."

"I'm okay Dave. I think he'll come around. I think he just needs time to sort out what he's feeling. What we have— me and Colin— it's pretty intense."

"Okay dude, you know best. But get in the shower now— I'm majorly starving!"

Brian got in the shower, cried some more quietly to himself and then willed himself to smile.

It was only time.


	19. The Rain King

Three days later, Brian still hadn't heard anything from Colin and he could tell Dave was dying to say something, but knew better, the endless prattle of happy talk coming from his roommate's mouth was driving him crazy. That, and a steady stream of requests for advice on an English paper he knew Dave was perfectly capable of writing himself, each suggestion of Brian's greeted with a "Dude! That's genius! That makes that whole part so much better! You are such an amazing writer, Kinney!"

"Buddy chat?" Brian said later that evening when he realized he couldn't take another minute of it.

Dave plopped down on the couch beside him, a purposefully serious and concerned look on his face.

Brian draped his arm around Dave's shoulder. "I know you mean well, Davey, but Colin will call me when he's ready, so you can chill out on all the Dave Gold happy talk."

"I'm just trying to keep your spirits up, bro. You're still pretty fragile Brian."

"I'm less fragile than you think David."

"Well I just don't want you to have a relapse."

"You think that little blonde twat is going to give me a relapse? I never really cared about him."

"Oh like hell you didn't Brian. It's me you're talking to. Whatever happened to 'no secrets, no lies?' Because it sure as hell sounds like lying when you say shit like that."

"He can only hurt me if I let him. Isn't that one of your great lessons Gold?"

"But you already let him, Brian. You took him into your heart and told him you loved him. And you meant it. Deeply. And that's how it's going to hurt you: deeply."

"So I'm just supposed to sit here and wait for it?"

"Pretending you didn't love him isn't going to work Brian. You did and you do and no amount of artifice and subterfuge is going to change that. And that doesn't mean you need to moon over him all day. You just need to be real about it. At least with me."

"I can't Davey," Brian's big hazel eyes were wet with tears. "If I even say it… I can't imagine it… please, let me handle this my own way for now."

"And be there for you when it all goes to shit?" He shook his head. "You know you can count on me Superstar. That's what brothers are for."

"Always," Brian said, squeezing Dave's neck. "Always and forever."

He saw Colin in the cafeteria a few days later, holding hands with some pretty brunette with long well toned legs and a pert little butt. She was giggling at something he said and touching his shoulder.

"Well, hey Colin," Brian said, offering up his own version of the Dave Gold smile. "Who's the catch of the day, here?"

Colin blushed bright red and looked away, but when he realized that Brian was staring straight at him, he said "This is my new girlfriend Lauren. This is Dave Gold's roommate, ummm, Brian?"

Brian's spine ran cold, his stomach twisted into a know and he willed himself to speak.

"Great to meet you Lauren. You've got a good man there. A good solid man's man."

He motioned with his eyes for Colin to follow him to the bathroom and was glad when the blonde picked up on his clues and marched in two minutes later.

"Your girlfriend, you little blonde twat?" he spat out. "Do you really think she's going to turn you into a raging heterosexual."

"I'm not gay, Kinney! I told you that. I'm bi. I fall in love with the person, not the gender."

"And did this person change over the past few days?" he demanded, pointing to himself.

"I told you what was up. You're gone in 3 months. And then where does that leave me?"

"Do you really think you're not going to be craving cock in a few months? What's your plan then?"

"I was thinking you and I could continue to have some fun," he said, tracing his finger up and down Brian's chest. "You are amazing in the sack, dude."

"And just like that we go from 'I love you always' to the guy you fuck when your girlfriend isn't doing it for you. I don't think so, Colin."

"Why not? It's easy and efficient and we both have fun."

"You're an ass, McGinn. This could have worked, you and me, we could have made it work."

"I'm not as brave as you are Kinney. You're an amazing guy. You're smart, funny, and sexy and most of all, very, very kind. That's my favorite thing about you, how big hearted you are. And you are going to make someone a great husband one day."

"You little fucking twat. And to think I was ever stupid enough to tell you I loved you…"

"I don't want to hurt you Brian. You're an amazing guy. But you have to realize dude, I'm only 18. I'm a freshman. I thought about it dude. I really did. What it would be like to be here and be gay while you were in New York. What it would be like to transfer to NYU to be with you, to give up lacrosse. And the thing is, we've only known each other for three months. And as amazing as those three months have been, it's not a lot of time. You're asking a lot of me Brian and I'm just not ready to make all those leaps. I do love you Kinney, you're amazing, so let's try and end this on a good note. Four years from now, maybe we can pick it up again."

"We could have made this work McGinn. What's left for us? A bunch of lisping fairies and closet cases?"

"I don't know Brian. But I have to figure that out for myself. I can't just take your word for it."

He kissed Brian on the lips and then walked out of the bathroom. Brian walked over to one of the stalls and threw up.

He was still in a state of shock when Dave came home later that afternoon.

"What happened with Colin?" Dave asked as soon as he saw Brian.

"Why? What did your little network of acolytes tell you happened?"

"Nothing. I could just tell by the look on your face that something went down."

"He has a girlfriend now. That stupid little twat has a fucking girlfriend!"

"Who is he fucking kidding? He was getting butt-fucked by you 5 nights out of 7 and loving every minute of it. Now he's going to try and have a girlfriend?"

Brian nodded.

"Well she better either be the biggest prude in America or have a cock, because I don't know how he thinks she's not going to notice."

"He says he's not gay. That he falls in love with the person, not the gender."

"What fucking magazine article did he read that in?"

"Silly twat."

"How much JB did you drink?"

"A few sips."

"I didn't ask you how much was left in the bottle Kinney. Let's just get you to sleep. You can eat dinner when you wake up later."

Dave steered him into his bedroom and rubbed Brian's back till he fell asleep. And when he woke up, at 2:48 in the morning, he realized that it was Dave snoring lightly beside him and the reality that Colin was gone and it was over hit and the blue meanies came flying in, washing over him, making him feel scared and alone and worthless.

It was all so pointless, he thought. He'd never be anything but an unhappy outcast, someone to point a finger at and mock. Colin was right— he was too young, it was too much to ask him to commit. So he was alone again with only loneliness and scorn to look forward to. If he was dead, he wouldn't have to deal with it. All the pain would be gone. It would have to be pills. Just a nice overdose with some JB, he'd fall asleep and wouldn't wake up and no one would miss him.

Except Dave.

He looked at his brother's sleeping form. Dave would be heartbroken. He'd cry and keen and never forgive himself. Withdraw back into his Happy Dave shell and never open up to anyone again. So he had to keep on living. Even if taking care of him, worrying about him, was a burden to Dave. Maybe Dave would find someone else to worry about. He couldn't really love Brian. No one could. He snuggled up to David burying his face in his t-shirt and cried. At some point Dave woke up and started stroking his back, asking him if he wanted something to eat, asking him if he needed to throw up.

He didn't answer, just burrowed up against Dave, feeling his arms pull him in tight, feeling the hurt starting to sap away as Dave's scent filled his nostrils.

Dave could always make the Blue Meanies go away. Dave was magic.

The mornings were hardest. That's when he'd wake up and realize that Colin was gone, that he didn't have a boyfriend anymore and he was all alone and would likely be alone forever and the blue meanies would try and keep him in the bed and he wouldn't be able to see the point of getting up until Dave came in the room and opened up the blinds and sang him a goofy song and forced him to put on his running gear, some sort of high tech tights and long sleeved t-shirts that Dave had ordered for them from a catalog. Gold had actually figured out how to operate the washing machine in order to keep them clean in between Marisol's biweekly visits. They'd get outside in the cold and start running. slowly at first, the cold and the wind stinging their faces, but then they'd hit a point and Brian would start to feel better, start to feel the blue meanies slide away, sometimes slowly, sometimes immediately, and he'd pick up his pace and when they got back to the apartment he'd feel like himself again or at least like a sad version of himself and they'd shower up and head to class and everything would be okay until the next morning.

"Spring Break is in two weeks," Dave announced one cold, rainy evening as they were eating dinner, the remains of a pizza they'd ordered the night before. "And I thought it would do us both a world of good to get out of here."

"Go back to LA?"

"Even better. You, Brian Aiden Kinney, are about to receive an all-expenses paid trip for two to the Atlantis Resort and Casino on Paradise Island in the Bahamas! Where you and your guest will be joined by three of your closest friends for a week of drinking, drugging and saying goodbye to college debauchery!" He looked up at Brian and grinned, eyes wide in anticipation.

"What are you talking about Davey?"

"We're all going to the Bahamas for Spring Break. Me, you, Billy, Brandon and Scott. How awesome is that going to be?"

"And what am I supposed to be doing while you guys are out trolling for coeds?"

"It's not going to be like that, Brian? It's just the five of us having fun, like always. And knowing you, I bet you get laid more than any of us."

Brian looked skeptical.

"Dude! It is going to be so awesome! Just the five of us. One last adventure. Beach. Sun."

"The four of you. And your little gay mascot."

"Will you stop with that shit, Kinney. Everyone feel bad for poor little Brian. Those guys are your true friends dude. And they have been since freshman year. You not being there would ruin the whole week. You wouldn't want that on your conscious now, would you?"

"Stop playing me Gold. I'm not going." Brian finished the last bite of pizza and stormed off to his room.

A half hour later the doorbell rang and a very wet Billy, Brandon and Scott marched into the apartment, shaking themselves off as they shed their coats.

"Where is he?" Brian heard Brandon ask Dave through the closed door to his bedroom.

"He's in here," Dave said, throwing the door open. "Sulking."

"Kinney, if I have to tie you up and put you in my suitcase, you are coming with us," Billy announced.

"Brian, who else is going to help me get these guys to lose at Bizz Buzz?" Scott asked, plopping down at the foot of Brian's bed.

"And who's going to be my foosball partner," Brandon said.

"You don't even know they have foosball, Meyers," Brian protested.

The four of them surrounded Brian's bed.

"You know the plan, men," Billy stated. "On five."

Dave counted down and on "five" they all piled on Brian, holding him down and tickling him until he finally relented, screaming out "Uncle! Okay! Okay! I'll go! Breeder assholes! Just don't expect me play wingman for your lame raps all week."

"That's my boy!" Dave smiled, pulling Brian up to a sitting position. "And my rap is most definitely not lame."

"No Davey, it's awesome!" Brian said and whacked Dave with his pillow.

Dave grabbed another pillow and whacked him back, which started a pillow fight between the five of them which lasted a good twenty minutes until Brandon noticed it was after 11 and he had an 8 AM class the next morning.

"If he starts doing his usual Gold shit like booking us all for 6 AM windsurfing lessons, let me know," Billy whispered in Brian's ear as they were leaving. "It's a vacation, not training camp."

Brian laughed and for the first time in a long time, he actually felt a little happy.

It started pouring on the taxi ride from the airport to Paradise Island and hadn't let up all afternoon, despite Dave's hourly predictions that he could see the sun starting to come out. The boys were in a two bedroom suite, Brian and Dave in one room, Billy, Brandon and Scott in the other. They were hanging out in the living room, drinking beer and playing poker, laughing and reminiscing. Brian was glad he'd come, these guys were the best part of his four years at Lehigh and they really did all still love him no matter who he slept with.

"You know, I'm glad it's raining," Dave announced. "It gives us a chance to just all hang together, play some cards, talk— this is as much fun as being on the beach."

"What the fuck Davey?" Billy sputtered. "Did they like leave you out in the sun too long there back in LA? I swear I have never met anyone who can find the silver lining as fast as you can. I mean if someone were dropping an atomic bomb on us, you'd be all 'think of the beautiful mushroom cloud the people who see this will get to experience.'"

"Better than you Mister Doom and Gloom. 'Oh, it's raining. I bet it's never going to stop. The whole vacation will be ruined. There'll probably be a flood."

"You want to talk Mister Doom and Gloom" Billy sputtered. "This one, right here," he said, pointing his finger at Brian.

"Well Kinney's in a league of his own with that shit," Dave said. "I mean right now he's worrying about whether the roof can hold this much water or if it's going to cave in and if it does, will giant man-eating sharks escape from their tanks and come looking for us. 'Shut up Gold,'" he said, mimicking Brian. "'It could happen. I'm just being realistic.'"

Scott and Brandon were beside themselves on the bed, laughing so hard they could barely breathe and even Brian found himself laughing, despite his usual self-consciousness.

"Oh, and like you two are getting out of this one," Billy said. "Guys, what would Meyers say if Cindy Crawford walked up to him naked and offered to give him a blow job?"

"Ummm, maybe," David said in a pitch perfect imitation of Brandon's deadpan.

"I'll, umm, have to check my schedule," Brian chimed in.

"I do not do that!"

"Umm, you so totally do that," Dave told him. "You'll be under the chuppah and the rabbi will ask you if you take this woman and you'll say 'umm maybe.'"

"Chuppah - Jewish wedding canopy thing."

"Very good Kinney— we'll make a Jew out of you and DeMiola yet."

"What about Silverman?" Brandon asked.

"I think he's already Jewish," Brian deadpanned.

"I meant—"

"Yeah we know, Brand-o," Billy said. "Okay, Silverman - Same scenario.. Cindy Crawford walks up to him says do you want a blow job, Scotty says '97% of blow jobs end in orgasm for the receiving partner."

"However of those 97, 71% said they needed manual stimulation at one point," Dave added.

"Which is like so totally awesome because you know then they get an arm workout in too!" Brian added, imitating Dave's deep bass.

Dave burst out laughing, "That was good Kinney. Very good." And then they all started laughing harder and Brandon turned and accidentally knocked the deck of cards off the coffee table and Billy shouted out "nap time" and Dave turned so that his head was touching Brian's like they were Siamese twins and between the beer and the travel and the exhaustion of midterms they all drifted off to sleep.

It was still raining when they woke up and Dave announced that they needed to shower up and get ready for dinner, they had 7:00 reservations at the seafood restaurant downstairs and then there was a bar at the hotel that looked like fun, they had some sort of Spring Break party going on and a karaoke contest."

"Did he make a chart yet, Bri?" Scott asked. "Color coded, so we all know what to do and when."

"I haven't seen one, but that's not to say it doesn't exist."

"Bite me, the both of you," Dave called out from the shower. "And just for that Kinney, you get to be pink."

"I embrace my pink, Gold. And we're rainbow now anyway, pink was the '80s."

"I'll bear that in mind," Dave replied, emerging from the shower. "Get in Kinney - I left the water running, it's a good temperature."

And as he stood in the shower naked, Dave and Scott standing just outside the steamed up shower door, it dawned on Brian that he was surrounded by four of the hottest guys on campus and wasn't feeling the least bit of interest in any of them. Which either meant he was still depressed over Colin or there was something special about all of them.

"Buzz"

"88"

"89"

"Bizz"

"91"

"No! That's a buzz—thirteen times seven is ninety-one!" Dave declared. "Okay, I win. That means we're signing up for karaoke."

The five of them were huddled under an umbrella table outside at the hotel bar as the DJ valiantly tried to get the crowd of spring breakers revved up despite the torrential downpour. Getting from their table to the bar involved a trek through the rain, so the five of them kept trying, unsuccessfully thus far, to lure a bunch of girls out to join them.

"Take off your shirt, DeMiola," Brian said. "We'll either get a bunch of girls or a bunch of fags, but either way some of us will wind up happy."

"Remember when we went to that bar with you Kinney?" Brandon said. "And Gibson comes running out 'they're sucking each others dicks in there!""

Everyone started laughing harder.

"That was the funniest thing ever," Billy said. "And Gold kept trying to bribe the bouncer to let us stay, but he wasn't having any of it."

"I haven't been back there since," Brian said. "I'll probably have to wear a disguise… speaking of disguises— what do you want us to pretend to sing Gold?"

"You know that Counting Crows song, Rain King?"

"The one you made us listen to over and over in the car on the way to the airport?"

"It wasn't over and over, Brian. It was only like 5 times."

"None of us know the damn lyrics, Davey," Brandon noted. "And even if we did, none of us can actually sing worth a damn."

"Don't worry, Brando- I'll do the lyrics, you guys just join in on the chorus. And they have the words up on the screen too if you forget them."

"Really Dave? Is that how it works?"

"Ummm, maybe."

Brandon clinked his plastic beer cup to Dave's. "Point, California."

They were all dressed more or less identically, in board shorts, flip flops and brown Lehigh hoodies, but then Billy took off his sweatshirt and did a little flexing in his tank top at some girls over by the bar. He'd cause a riot at Babylon, Brian thought to himself, as a group of girls, sophomores at Syracuse, it turned out, made the dash across the courtyard to join them.

And of course somehow one of the girls knew Gold, she had a cousin who went to Chen-An-Go and somehow she even knew that Dave had gone down to Penn and taken Jodi out for Valentine's Day and Brian was wondering if there was some sort of Dave Gold Fan Club newsletter they all subscribed to when Dave pulled him over and said "this is my roommate Brian. He went to Chen-An-Go too." And the girl got a pensive look on her face and then said "Oh," and mouthed "is he the gay one?" to Dave as if Brian wasn't standing there.

"Yes. I'm the gay one. Brian Kinney, Homosexual, at your service," he said and pretended to doff his imaginary hat and bow.

"I didn't mean it like that, Brian," she said, playfully batting his head with the back of her hand. "My cousin said you were a super nice guy and really funny. And you helped her brother a lot at soccer, that you were really nice to him and helped boost his confidence."

"What was your cousin's name?" Dave asked, when it became clear that Brian wasn't going to.

"Jared. Jared Stein."

"Jared!" Brian said, smiling broadly. "What a great kid! He's your cousin? Send him my regards, please. He was the nicest kid in our group. He really took to soccer too."

"I will. And I'm sorry if I embarrassed you before."

"Don't worry about it. No apologies. No regrets."

"Oh, I love that movie! That was a great line!"

And it wasn't a line from a movie, it was something Brian had just made up on the spot right now, but it was loud and he was buzzed and he was enjoying himself way more than he'd expected, so he let it slide, there was no way she was ever going to understand his explanation anyway.

"Okay," the DJ announced. "Our next act is called Dave Gold and the Lehigh Five… what?… okay? Just the Lehigh Five. They're going to do Rain King by the Counting Crows."

The five of them stood huddled under the awning in front of the DJ booth while the girls from Syracuse loudly cheered them on.

"You guys just join in for the chorus," Dave commanded and then took the mic and stepped out in front of them.

_When I think of heaven_  
_Deliver me in a black-winged bird_  
_I think of flying down into a sea of pens and feathers_  
_And all other instruments of faith and sex and God_  
_In the belly of a black-winged bird._

Dave was a natural ham and was preening around the small stage like Mick Jagger. He stepped back to join the rest of them for the start of the chorus:

_Don't try to feed me_  
_I've been here before_  
_And I deserve a little more_

They all shouted the line about deserving a little more and Dave looked directly at Brian and nodded.

_I belong… in the service of the Queen_  
_I belong… anywhere but in between_

Both times they sang "I belong" everyone pointed at Brian and Billy and Brandon each flung an arm around him and then around Scott and they all started jumping up and down while Dave took it home:

_She's been crying and I've been thinking_  
_And I am the Rain King_

And Brian was crying, tears flowing down his face and he was smiling and squeezing Billy and Brandon and Dave turned around and they were grinning at each other and for the first time in a long time he felt so happy he thought his heart might burst.

And then after the next chorus Dave grabbed him and pulled him out to sing the next lyric with him, Brian didn't know the words but there they were on the screen

_Hey, I only want the same as anyone_  
_Henderson is waiting for the sun_  
_Oh, it seems night endlessly begins and ends_  
_After all the dreaming I come home again_

And he heard the lyrics, saw the great big Dave Gold smile, felt Dave's big hand squeezing his shoulder and he was home again and it felt good and the blue meanies were far off on the horizon.

Dave steered him back to the group and they all joined arms in a circle and started jumping up and down, shouting out the chorus one last time, Brian gazing around the circle from face to face, delighted to see the same look of rapture that was on his.

_I belong… in the service of the queen_  
_I belong… anywhere but in between_  
_She's been dying and I've been drinking_  
_And I am the Rain King_

The performance somehow won them the third place trophy, $25 worth of beer at the bar, which they hastily claimed. Everyone wound up with one of the Syracuse girls that night, even Brian, who drunkenly accepted a blow job from a curly haired blonde girl because when he closed his eyes he could pretend she was Colin.

"Guess who?"

Brian was pretty buzzed, he'd had about a half dozen shots along with a couple of lines of coke and still hadn't given up hope of getting in a quick one with his bachelor party stripper, so he was in no mood to play guessing games with what was likely some former trick.

But there was something about the hands that felt familiar and when whoever it was pressed up closer to him, he could feel hard abs on the back of his head, and his curiosity was piqued.

"Is it bigger than a breadbox?" he asked.

"Dude, I can't believe you can't figure this out."

Dude. No self-respecting Pittsburgh fag ever said "dude." Which meant it had to be— "Gold! Davey!" Brian jumped up and flung himself into Dave's embrace. "What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming in until Thursday."

"Well someone tipped me off and as an official member of the bridal party— groomal party?— I wasn't going to miss this. I guess I missed the stripper, huh?"

"You must be heartbroken. We can always get him back for an encore."

"That's fine Kinney… I'm so happy for you dude," he said and he hugged Brian again, lifting him off the ground. "Where's Justin? Is he here or does he get his own party?"

"No, same party." Actually it was _his_ bachelor party, Brian realized. Mikey hadn't bothered to include any sort of roast for Justin or even have the stripper see to him. If he was bothered, Justin didn't seem to indicate it. Which was why Brian was glad he'd had both Dave and Michael as co-best men. Dave had insisted on it when Brian asked him to stand up for him. "Dude, you have to ask Mikey too, it'd kill him if you didn't." And so he'd wound up with two best men.

"There he is," Dave said, and beelined over for Justin. "Jus-Jus, my brother!" he said, lifting Justin out of his chair and gripping him in a tight embrace. Jus-Jus was a variation on Gus-Gus, which was Dave's nickname for Brian's son, it was how Gus, the mouse in the Cinderella movie referred to himself, and as a pediatrician Dave was something of an expert on children's stories.

"I told you we'd get here," Dave whispered into Justin's ear and Justin gave him a big kiss on the cheek and they smiled at each other, Brian, observing them from across the room, thought to himself that they could light up half of Pittsburgh with their respective 100-watt smiles.

Justin gave Dave a fist-bump, both of them smirking as they realized fist-bumping was not something Justin normally did. He'd been baffled by Dave when he first met him: some loud happy frat boy doctor invading Brian's loft, blasting alt-rock music on Brian's stereo, watching baseball and basketball games on Brian's TV, helping himself to whatever was in the refrigerator and Brian just smiling and nodding happily at things that would have gotten anyone else's head chewed off. The clincher was when he'd borrow Brian's clothes without asking. "It was cold bro, so I took one of your sweaters." And Brian would just smile and nod even though Justin wasn't allowed to so much as fold Brian's clothes, let alone wear them, and one time Justin had caught Brian smelling one of his t-shirts after Dave had worn it.

But Dave had grown on him— he was always asking after Justin, and when Justin had gone out to LA to work on Rage, Dave— who of course knew Brett and just about everyone else on the production— had looked after him, his father, a prominent agent who everyone in the studios seemed somewhat afraid of, had even negotiated Justin's contract. And it was Dave who'd gotten furious when Brian didn't show up in LA for Justin. Dave who convinced Justin to stand up to Brian. Dave who'd get into shouting fights with Brian about how he needed to grow up and stop stringing Justin along. Dave who'd call bullshit on Brian's lines about not believing in love and no apologies, no regrets. Dave who'd nicknamed Lindsay "Enabler Dyke."

Brian came up behind them and hugged them both to his chest. "The two people in this world who make me happy. My brother and my husband."

"Full responsibility for nurturing the corny streak," Dave said to Justin. "It's a family trait, so you'd better get used to it."

There was a karaoke contest going on at Woody's that Dave seemed unduly interested in. That and he kept whispering something to Ben, who was the family member Dave was closest to, as soon as he discovered Ben liked sports, they'd become buddies for life. Brian was going to ask him what was going on when Dave come over to the table with a bottle of Grey Goose and made Brian do three shots with him, claiming it was good luck to do three shots with the best man at your bachelor party and at the time Brian had dismissed it as just another California quirk.

A trio of queens had just finished a very camp version of "Don't Phunk With My Heart" when the MC announced "we have a special entry up next, the Lehigh Five, and they're going to sing 'Rain King' by the Counting Crows."

"Dude! That's us!" Dave said and pulled a more-than-slightly-inebriated Brian out of his chair. Ben had somehow materialized with two brown Lehigh University hoodies and between himself and Michael they managed to force one on Brian.

"I'm not doing this Gold."

"Like hell you're not. Look— the whole crowd is chanting for you."

And sure enough the front row was chanting "Bri-an! Bri-an! and Gold was pulling him onstage and even here at Woody's, Dave had no doubt that he belonged, that he was supposed to be there and so Brian let him pull him along and Dave took the mic and started up the first verse, doing his rock star strut while holding on to Brian with his left arm.

They got to the chorus and Dave held the mic out to the crowd as if he were expecting the fags in Buddy's to actually know the lyrics to one of his ridiculous rock songs only someone was actually singing the beginning of the chorus,

_Don't try to feed me_  
_I've been here before_

The voices seemed to be getting closer to the stage, only the spotlight was in his eyes and Brian couldn't see.

Dave nudged him and Brian joined in on:

_And I deserve a little more_

And then the other voices were there with them on stage and it was Brandon and Scott and Billy and he hadn't seen any of them in at least five years, maybe longer and Billy was bald but Brandon and Scott more or less looked the same and they were hugging him and Brian was crying and laughing and Gold was fucking magic. Always magic. And they joined into a circle and started jumping up and down and Brian was jumping too high but he loved Justin and his friends still loved him and all of them were here together and the blue meanies were a million miles away and—

_I belong… in the service of the Queen_  
_I belong… anywhere but in between_

And the four of them kept jumping, Brian finally able to fix on his friends faces while Dave snaked his way around the stage, going into the audience to vamp Justin, turning the mic towards the crowd to sing/shout _I belong… anywhere but in between_ while Ben yelled out "No civil unions! Gay marriage now!" in case anyone had missed the analogy.

And when they got to the end, Dave stopped singing and let Brian take the last two lines:

_He's been dying and I've been drinking_  
_And I am the Rain King_

And the crowd erupted in wild applause, and four-fifths of the Lehigh Five picked up the other one-fifth and lifted him on their shoulders running laps around the bar while shouting "Kinney! Kinney! Kinney!"

They landed at a table in the back with a pitcher of beer and the bottle of Gray Goose Dave had bought from the bar and regaled Justin with stories from Brian's college days and Brian Fucking Kinney was somehow dissolving before his eyes, saying dude, saying bro, saying them every other word, smiling and laughing and talking to friends-who-weren't-Dave as if he was actually happy to be around them, all of which made Justin even happier that he'd decided to say yes.

And Brian, Brian felt like he was flying. Billy was an anesthesiologist down in Miami, Brandon worked for his father's law firm in New Jersey and Scott was doing something with start-ups in the Valley, an angel investor, whatever that was. And they were back in school sophomore year laid out across their dorm room talking about how they'd still all be friends when they were older, what they'd be doing and Brian knew it was all a lie because he was gay and when they found out they'd disown him, only it didn't happen that way, they were all here together just like they'd said they'd be and Justin was sitting with Dave, and Justin pointed to him and Dave looked over and they both winked at him and gave him a thumbs up, the twin megawatt smiles practically blinding him.

And he flashed back to a beach in Santa Barbara seventeen years earlier

"_Come on Brian. You haven't figured me out by now? What makes me happy?"_

_"Making other people happy?"_

_"Exactly. But what's funny is you still haven't figured out you yet."_

_"Oh?"_

_"Because you know what makes Brian Kinney happy? Making other people happy. That's why we get along so well. So if you just think that your being happy makes me happy, you'll see why all you need to do to even things out is to just let me see you enjoying yourself. It's like one big giant circle of happiness."_

And that's what he had now. One big giant circle of happiness.

_As part of the continuing multimedia effort, here's a link to the song "Rain King" by the Counting Crows_


	20. Options

Brian had talked Lindsay into helping him mock up a portfolio of spec ads— ads that he'd do for a client if he had the account. The books he'd gotten had all recommended hiring someone with art skills and Lindsay was able to take the ideas he'd sketched out on sheets of notebook paper and make them into something that looked like ads, or at least a cartoon version of ads. She'd even gotten letter press for the headlines which was a painstaking process— each letter had to be positioned and then rubbed into place like a carbon copy. After the first two pieces they'd figured out that Brian needed to be there to proofread everything— Lindsay's spelling errors were a problem.

But they'd finally gotten everything together and Brian put together a portfolio with five ad campaigns, three ads each, each page encased in a plastic folder that was spray mounted to a piece of black cardboard in a giant binder. Brian had run the earlier versions by his friends first, to see if they were any good. Of course Lindsay had loved them, but she tended to think anything Brian did or said was brilliant. Scott was the hardest— he took everything so literally and never picked up on the puns, much to Brian's frustration.

Dave was a pain in the ass, too. He'd do some Hollywood thing he must have learned from his father where he'd tell Brian the ad was brilliant, wait a few beats, and then start tearing it apart.

"If you don't like it Gold, why don't you just say so?"

"It's a fucking ad, Kinney, it's not your baby. And if you don't want me to be honest, why are you asking me?"

"Stop being so fucking Hollywood. If you don't like it, don't say you love it first."

"Stop being so touchy Kinney. Those guys in New York are going to be a whole lot tougher on you than I am… and yeah, I hear you. "I love that you're finding new ways to express your creativity Davey, but if you draw on the walls again I'm going to break your fucking fingers off."

"Better than 'You drawing on the wallth? My fucking wallth? I shoulda made your mother get a fucking abortion, you fucking piece of shit!"

"He didn't really say that Bri, did he? About the abortion and all?"

"Every chance he could."

"Well at least he remembered when your birthday was. When I was 9, he showed up with balloons and presents two months early. Got on the phone and yelled at his secretary for messing up the date."

"At least he got you presents."

"He didn't get them for me Brian. Some 22 year old kid out of Stanford who worked for him usually did. They'd just get me Dodgers shit— kid sized uniforms and autographed baseballs and all that."

"You know what I used to get Davey? Some book about saints that my Mom bought at the church bazaar. Or a subscription to Catholic Life. Toys and games were the devil's playground."

"That's fucked dude. I will always get you something fun for your birthday, okay?"

"Like a shiny red bicycle with a big silver bell?"

"You're a nut," Dave laughed and playfully swatted at Brian's head. "But you do always know how to make me laugh."

"You're an easy target Gold. You always have been."

Brian had set up meetings with a half dozen creative directors at various New York City ad agencies. Three were connections of Ken Gold's, one was someone whose work he'd admired and written to, one was the father of one of his campers at Chen-An-Go and the last was a Lehigh alum whom the Career Office had put him in touch with.

And so armed with his black Armani suit and a gray wool houndstooth overcoat he'd gotten at a men's shop in Allentown, he set out to conquer the ad world.

Only he didn't do a lot of conquering.

It's wasn't that any of them hated the book. They'd all liked the campaign he'd done for Electrolux vacuums that had close-ups of vacuum cleaners with bold headlines like "It Really Sucks" followed up by copy about how the Electrolux had greater suction power than any other vacuum cleaner.

It was the rest of the book they had trouble with.

Trouble wasn't the exact word here either. They all praised him for having an "amazing beginner's book" and five of the six told him that ten years earlier that have hired him on the spot. It was just that times were tougher, budgets were tighter and they didn't have time to train people.

Charlie Youngman, the creative director he'd written to himself, was his harshest critic, telling him that every campaign needed to be as good as Electrolux and to stop selling himself short, to never accept anything that was mediocre. "Good is the enemy of great!" Charlie had said to him no less than five times as he urged Brian to take the class he taught at the School of Visual Arts downtown.

Everyone was very encouraging, but, by his last meeting Brian also realized that no one was offering him a job or even the possibility of a job. Jill Rothberg, the Lehigh alum who was the last person he'd talked to, had sensed that and reminded him that copywriter positions were pretty rare. "It's almost like becoming an actor," she told him. "You may have to wait tables for a year while you're getting your book together, but once you get it done, it will all be worth it."

"Did you wait tables?" Brian asked her.

"No," she sighed. "I was a secretary. I typed up copy and answered phones for two years before someone gave me a shot. I know it' s discouraging Brian, but you're very talented. I think you'd be very good at this."

Brian thanked her but was fighting back tears by the time he met Dave, who'd had an interview at NYU, at a restaurant in the Flatiron District.

Dave picked up immediately that something was bothering Brian and when Brian explained the days events, Dave seemed nonplussed.

"So that's what you'll do, bro. You'll find a job to pay your bills and you'll work on your portfolio and in six months you'll be a copywriter. I wonder if that's something you could do in LA. You could live with me and you wouldn't have to even get a job, you could just work on your book."

"You can't do it in LA, Dave. I want to be in New York. And how am I supposed to work full time at a job and work on my book?"

"You'll find a way, Brian. You manage to be a full-time student, hold down that job you have at the library and be executive editor of the school paper. Where there's a will there's a way."

"Any other trite clichés you want to throw at me Davey? A stitch in time saves nine. Don't count your chickens before they hatch. Look before you leap."

Dave rolled his eyes and changed the subject, telling a funny story about how his cab driver couldn't find NYU med school, a story Brian realized may or may not have been true.

In the car on the way home, as Dave prattled on about how awesome it was going to be for Brian to live in New York, Brian suddenly felt his shell cracking and he started crying, softly, but try as he might, he couldn't control it. He hated this, feeling out of control, it scared him and made him feel weak.

"Kinney! What's the matter buddy?" Dave's arms shot out to pull Brian closer to him as the Jeep veered into the other lane. "What's the matter, Bri?"

"I'm just a loser, Davey. Everything I do, I fuck up."

"What are you talking about Brian?"

"I fuck up everything Davey. Colin, finding an ad job, snapping at you" And the harder he tried to stop himself, to just shut down, the harder the blue meanies pushed back.

"You're not a loser Kinney. Stop that. You had six top creative directors tell you they loved your Electrolux campaign. All of them. So now you just have to come up with a couple of others that are just as good. It's going to be hard work, but you can do it. And you yourself told me that the Electrolux was the best thing in there, right?"

"I guess," Brian mumbled.

"Look dude," Dave sighed. "I know it's disappointing. You thought you were going to come away from there with a job offer, but it looks like that's not the way it works, that no matter how good your stuff was, they would have all told you to come back and show them something more. Right?"

"I guess." Brian hadn't thought of it that way. He'd just been sure they'd been letting him down easy. But somehow, when he heard Dave say it, it sounded perfectly reasonable.

"And as for snapping at me, dude— I keep telling you this— it's all part of being brothers. Sometimes we're going to fight. But it's no big deal— I knew you were upset about the interviews and that it wasn't that me you were mad at."

Brian rested his head on Dave's shoulder, took a deep breath and the blue meanies started to beat a hasty retreat, he could feel his back and neck relaxing, feel his stomach start to calm down. They stayed like that for a few minutes longer and then Brian told Dave he really should probably use both hands for driving and they started having one of their usual long winded conversations— this time it was about whether people understood how much better Lehigh was than their rival Franklin and Marshall and by the time they got back to the apartment, Brian was already starting to think up ideas for a new campaign.

Brian might not have been getting ad jobs in New York, but he was, at least, getting blow jobs. He'd decided to make the 90 minute drive into the city one night when Dave was bringing some girl to her sorority formal and his sole alternate plan for the evening— hanging out at a dorm party with Brandon and Scott, trying to help them pick up freshman girls, was about as appealing to him as having his tongue nailed to a block of ice. So he'd gotten in his Jeep and driven down to New York. There was a bathhouse there he'd read about in one of the free magazines they left at gay clubs and bookstores and, having never been to one before, he decided to give it a try.

The place was dimly lit, not particularly sanitary - he was glad he'd decided to rent flip-flops, but there were some hot guys there and he managed to get blown three times over the course of the evening. One of the guys wanted Brian to fuck him, which was tempting— the guy had a nice ass— be he kept hearing Dave's voice tell him "I bet he has AIDS, Kinney, what kind of loser gets fucked in a bathhouse?" and so he settled for another blow job.

It was better this way, he told himself. No worries about interacting with some Streisand lover dressed up like a lacrosse player, no worries about someone wanting to see him again or ask him out on a date. He was a just a regular guy who happened to like dudes and letting guys take his cock in their mouth and bring him to orgasm was the easiest course of action. It was fast, efficient and involved the least amount of hassle.

Which was perfect because love wasn't in the cards for him, he realized. There was no way he was going to find a man to fall in love with. The idea of dating a guy had no appeal to him nor did romance. Not anymore— he'd learned his lesson with Colin. Now all he needed was to get off and get out as quickly as possible. A little Jim Beam and a good blow job and he was happy. Or if not happy, then the closest he'd been able to get to it in quite a while.

"My dad wants to talk to you," Dave said one night. They'd just come back from the library and Brian was lying on the couch watching the 11:00 news, waiting for the weather to come on.

"What does he want?" Brian asked.

Dave shrugged and handed the phone to Brian.

"Brian?"

"Hi Mr. Gold."

"Stop with the Mr. Gold— you can at least call me Ken."

"Hi Ken."

"I have a proposition for you Mr. Kinney… Davey tells me that your advertising job search isn't going so smoothly. Which actually makes me a little happy, because I think there's another kind of career you'd be well suited for."

"I see," Brian said hesitantly.

"I think you'd make a fantastic agent, Brian. You know, someone who represents talent. You are always very direct and honest and you've got good taste. And there are a lot of clients who need someone like that: someone who'll say 'don't do that script, no matter how much it pays, it's crap and it's going to hurt your career." There aren't many people who can pull that off and still sound believable. But you can. There's a sincerity to you. I think people will get that you're putting their best interests first."

"And these people… would they mostly be your gay clientele?"

"Don't insult me Brian. Has anyone in this family ever treated you like the house fag?"

"No," Brian mumbled.

"Then why would we start now? I think a certain type of actor or performer, someone who's a little smarter than the average bear, a little more secure, would really warm to someone like yourself, someone who gets there's more to their career than just size of their bank account."

Brian smiled. "What can I say, Ken? Thank you. You, Dave, all of you continue to be so good to me. I've honestly never thought about becoming an agent. I'm not even sure what an agent does."

"Well you'd have to start out like everyone else— in the mailroom. That's where you'd learn who everyone is and how everything works. From there you'd move up to being someone's assistant and then once you'd learned the ropes, we'd give you a few new clients that you could represent."

"But I'd have to start in the mailroom?"

"Not the most glamorous job, Brian, I realize, but understand that even MBAs start there. And you wouldn't have to worry about rent, you could live with David."

"Thank you," Brian stammered. "Thank you so much. I- I don't know what to say, I-"

"Look— I don't expect you to answer me now, nor would I want you to. Take a week, think it over, do your research, call me when you have questions, okay? Now put Davey back on the line."

"Dude! Your father just offered me a job. He wants me to become an agent!" Brian said, as soon as Dave had hung up the phone.

"Brian! That is awesome! Those jobs— guys with Harvard and Stanford MBAs fight for those jobs. He wouldn't offer it to you if he didn't think you had the talent for it."

"You mean he wouldn't offer it to me just because you asked him to?"

"I didn't ask him, Kinney," Dave said, his eyes locked on Brian's. "I swear I didn't. I didn't even know he was going to ask you."

"So how did he know about the advertising job search, Davey?"

"He asked me. Because the new and improved actually-giving-a-shit-about-Davey Ken Gold routine seems to include actually giving a shit about Brian Kinney too. He's always asking me how you're doing."

Brian stared back at David for a little bit and then smiled, stood up and embraced him in a hug. "I know I'm not always easy, Davey. Especially not lately."

"It's part of what makes you so lovable superstar. I mean who else freaks out about tater tots?"

"You're not supposed to microwave them David."

Dave pulled Brian into a headlock. "What? I couldn't hear you?"

"I said—" Dave squeezed his head harder— "I said they're delicious when you microwave them. Especially once you smother them in ketchup."

"Much better… now let's go watch Letterman."

"Come on Davey, rise and shine buddy!"

"Go away."

"Rise and shine!" Brian repeated, pulling the duvet off of Dave.

"When did you turn into an alarm Kinney?"

"Just trying to get ahead of the day."

This was, actually, a plan Lindsay had devised when Brian had complained to her how Dave made them late for everything— getting him up 15 minutes earlier might make all the difference.

"You look super handsome this morning," Dave said as he poured the coffee Brian had made that morning over a cup of ice and guzzled it down. "What's the occasion?"

"I have an interview with some ad agency from the Pitts this morning," he said. "The career office set it up. I'd almost forgot about it."

"They have ad agencies in Pittsburgh?"

"We have to find a way to get someone to buy the coal dust, Gold. Now stop alphabetizing the cereal and go get in the shower."

Dave was putting the Wheaties back on the shelf and had decided that it was a good time to check on the various boxes of cereal they kept stored there to see which ones were empty with an eye towards arranging the remaining one in alphabetical order, label side out, something he tasked himself with about every third week, always as they were racing to get out of the house in the morning.

"Put the cereal down Gold and get in the fucking shower!"

"One minute. Let me just finish doing this."

"Now Davey- get in the fucking shower now or we're going to be late again!"

"Sir! Yes sir!"

"That's it solider. Move! Move! Move!"

Brian wasn't expecting the interview with Ryder Advertising to go so well. He thought he'd applied for an account exec position and was pleasantly surprised to find himself talking to the creative director. a tall bearded redheaded man named Elliott, who'd once worked at a hot boutique agency in Philadelphia. Elliot, who was an art director by training, was thrilled that Brian wanted to be a copywriter, even more thrilled when he saw that Brian had actually brought his portfolio.

"These are excellent, Brian," he said, reviewing the ads. "Especially this Electrolux campaign. It's a little risky for the kinds of clients we have, but I like where you're going with it. Have you been getting any bites?"

"A couple. Agencies in New York. They're more talk than hire though," Brian said, because it wasn't technically untrue, a few of the people he'd talked to had asked him back when he's made some progress on his book.

"So why Pittsburgh?"

"I grew up there."

"A native son!" Elliott exclaimed. "How do you feel about moving back though?"

"I don't mind. It's a great city. And there's something to be said for being a big fish in a small pond. Besides, great advertising can happen anywhere. Look at Minneapolis. It's not much different than Pittsburgh."

"True," Elliott said.

He asked Brian about any other writing he'd done and Brian showed him some of his columns from the school newspaper, several of which made Elliott laugh out loud.

"I could really use a junior copywriter in the creative department," Elliott told him. "You'd be learning a lot on the job, writing a lot of coupon copy and local auto dealer radio spots at first, but you'll be learning on the job instead of from some egomaniac at SVA and at a shop like Ryder there's opportunity to move up quickly."

"So are you offering me a job?" Brian asked.

Elliott smiled. "I am. You'd be mostly working with Amy Hlavicek, we just promoted her to junior art director. She's very enthusiastic and a lot of fun."

Brian gulped and nodded.

"I don't expect you to answer me right now—" Elliott laughed. "I know you weren't expecting me to offer you a job on the spot and quite honestly, I wasn't expecting to make an offer today either."

"I'm gay," Brian blurted out.

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm gay," Brian said again, more slowly this time. "And I just wanted to make sure that wasn't going to be a problem."

"Not for me," Elliott said. "And you certainly wouldn't be the only one, if that's what you're asking. A lot of gay men and women work in advertising.

"Thank you," Brian stammered. "I— I just wanted to make sure it wasn't going to be a problem."

"It's not, Brian. And for what it's worth, don't ever think you need to tell someone that before they hire you. Who you sleep with is none of their business."

"But if it's going to be a problem, I'd want to know that up front."

"Once you're in and doing good work, things like that have a way of not being an issue, It's amazing what hurdles talent can help you overcome…. so think it over, Mr. Kinney, and give me a call sometime this week," he said, handing Brian his business card. "We can discuss salary at that point too— I need to talk to HR and see what kind of a package we can put together. It was great meeting you."

"Great meeting you too," Brian smiled, pumping Elliott's meaty hand. "I look forward to speaking with you."

He walked out of the office and out of the administration building in a daze. Someone had actually offered him a copywriter job. Only it was in Pittsburgh. He breathing got faster, he felt a little dizzy and he hoped to hell that Dave would be home when he got there.

"Hey Superstar, how'd it go?"

Brian's whole face lit up when he saw Dave standing in front of the open refrigerator, dipping a slice of deli turkey into a bottle of Grey Poupon mustard. "Davey!" he shouted rushing up and hugging Dave tightly. "They offered me a job. As a copywriter!"

"Dude!" Dave said, managing to stand the bottle of mustard on the counter, despite Brian's death grip on his arms. "That is so awesome! I knew you'd do it! These were the guys from Pittsburgh?" he asked.

"Yup," Brian said and recounted the events of the past two hours.

"Wow, so just like that," Dave said. "That is so awesome Bri. You must have impressed the shit out of him superstar! Are you going to say yes?"

"I don't know," Brian said. "I don't know what to do. I'll need a few days to really think it over. I just wasn't expecting this- all this- to happen so quickly."

"I know," Dave told him, as Brian released the hug. "But just remember— listen to this—" he pointed towards Brian's heart, "not just this—" he said, pointing to Brian's head. "They are both just as important."

"California wisdom?" Brian teased.

"No. Universal wisdom," Dave said. "I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true. And I'm always here to help you figure this out, talking things over with someone else can be a real help."

"I know," Brian said, pulling Dave's head closer and pecking him on the top of the head. "That goes without saying, superstar."

And with that he grabbed a slice of turkey from the package Dave was still holding and, despite the number of times he'd mocked Dave about it, dipped a slice into the mustard jar that was sitting on the table and ate it, standing up.

NOTES: Brian's job in canon doesn't exist in the real world. Account execs do not write ads- copywriters and art directors do. If you watch _Mad Men_, Brian is doing both Don Draper and Roger Stirling's jobs in canon. But given his way with words, and the "rock star" status creatives have within the ad world, I think Brian would be a copywriter/creative director and so that's the job path we'll see him on throughout the story.

**ALSO: We are now all caught up with where the story is on AO3, so new chapters will not be coming as fast and furious. If you'd like to leave a comment, this would be a good place to do so. Thanks!**


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